Before the World Catches Up
by LoveIsATemple
Summary: On her last day in New Orleans, Caroline Forbes steps inside a bookshop and catches the attention of one of its cheerful owners. Introducing himself as Klaus, his smiles win her over, and when he surreptitiously slips Caroline his number, she's forced to make a decision: give in and enjoy her last night, or pack up and leave without a second glance. (AU/AH)
1. So Little Time

**A/N 1: Hello all and welcome to a little multi-chapter fic I felt was necessary to write. I say "little" because I've got it clocked to around ten chapters between three thousand and five thousand words each and I'll mention "why" down at the bottom. **

**It's sweet and fluffy and AU/AH, so here's me crossing my fingers that you guys like that kind of stuff. **

**I hope you give it a chance and enjoy the first chapter! The next one shouldn't take too long to get out. **

**_Ahem!_ Without further ****adieu, I give you the opening chapter of "Before the World Catches Up" and I'll meet you at the bottom with some more information!**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING! ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! This was written purely for fun. Please take it as such. **

* * *

_"Endless romantic stories,_

_You never could control me."_

_Far Too Young to Die | Panic! at the Disco_

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**Chapter 1:** **So Little Time**

Caroline Forbes hated wearing sunglasses. They stole her blue eyes, forced her to become just another faceless blonde. People looked straight past her when she wore them and, however narcissistic, she refused the idea of the human race _not _falling at her feet.

But New Orleans, Louisiana demanded that Caroline hide her eyes. The sun punched her sensitive pupils like a boxing kangaroo and despite her selfish pride, she walked down the busy street with her Kate Spade sunglasses blocking everyone from witnessing the beauty held in her stare. She supposed she'd have to count on her jean shorts and plain black top that maybe was a little too tight to make her look stunning.

She'd been in New Orleans for two weeks already, soaking up the culture and enjoying the blasting heat. Mystic Falls was home, sure, but sometimes she needed an escape. Caroline _had_ been working her ass off lately to get the launch of _The Mystic Times _ready for action. Who could blame her for wanting some time away from Virginia?

Ever since she was in high school, Caroline had dreamed of starting her own paper and now, just three years out of university, she was finally there. She even had a team. A _team! _People who answered to her and asked her what she wanted in her coffee and inquired (she could use that word now) if she thought _Dear AnnaBeth _was better than _Dear BethAnne _for their advice column_._ They'd gone with "AnnaBeth" in the end.

Mystic Fall's population jittered with excitement, already waiting for the brand new newspaper. It was a small paper for a small town, but it meant that she'd accomplished something. Something no one expected she could, not even her own mother.

_Take that, Elena! _She thought mockingly. _Elena Gilbert; the star, the queen, the purest form of perfection. Well, not anymore. Make way, because here comes Caroline Forbes. _

Turning to the left, Caroline came across what she'd stepped outside her hotel to see: New Orlean's version of a strip mall.

Stores lined the cobblestone street. Independently owned boutiques stuffed with adorable clothes she'd never find anywhere else. Gorgeous antique shops stacked with vintage tables and lamps. Even a butcher was getting in on the action, a string of animal carcasses with red meat hanging outside the shop's window.

Tons of people bustled about with shopping bags and children attached to their hands. Women talked angrily into their phones while men watched them walk by with sly smiles on their faces. Caroline giggled at the blatant ogling. No one in Mystic Falls would stare so openly at a woman's swaying hips. Not unless they wanted a slap across the face.

With her wallet in hand, Caroline looked around to find the store she'd been dying to see. Part of the reason she'd come to New Orleans was because it supposedly had the best second-hand bookshop in the country and her newspaper was struggling with their book reviews, so she told her staff (_her staff!_) that she'd browse around the store to see if she could find anything worth reviewing.

And she never could turn down a bookshop. Especially an old, second-hand one. The smell of the worn pages got her high and feeling the weight of a first edition poetry book by a poet no one had ever heard about all but gave her an orgasm.

Wind blew her straightened hair around her face and she impatiently held it at bay while still searching for the shop. Sweat started dribbling down her back and she was seconds away from giving up and going into one of the boutiques when she caught sight of the large sign. Smiling like a fool, Caroline waltzed to the store front and paused, getting a good look of the interior before opening the door.

Inside, men and woman and children grazed their fingers along book spines, their stares concentrated. Some already had books under their arms and a few were sitting in chairs and large bean bags with books splayed in their laps or smack in front of their eyes. She looked up and watched as a toy train made its way above the heads of customers.

_Perfection, _she sighed to herself, cocking her head to the side and pushing her sunglasses up on her hair.

Squinting against the blaring sunbeams, Caroline took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for opening the door. After giving herself a fairly short pep talk, she grabbed the door handle and pulled. Then pulled again and again. It wouldn't budge.

"Oh." Embarrassment swarmed her cheeks when she saw the 'PUSH' sign hanging above the handle. She shook her head with a humiliated smile and pushed the door in, hoping that no one else spotted her severe blonde moment.

Caroline gasped, the noise muffled by the door 'dinging' to announce her presence. No one moved their heads to watch her enter and for the first time she was glad; there was bound to be a stupid expression on her face anyway. Peeking through the glass did nothing to prepare the young journalist for what the store looked like when actually inside.

To her left an unlit fireplace melted into the brick wall with a few chairs situated next to it. An older couple grinned at her politely as she stepped further into the store. No wall was bare, books upon stacks of books absolutely everywhere. She was sure this place held every title known to man and then some.

A fancy carpet ruffled underfoot, wobbling her slightly until she got her feet on steady concrete. She walked a few more feet, stepping through a doorway and entering the larger part of the store. There was a woman behind the register with long blonde hair and a somewhat menacing smile playing at her lips as she scanned a customer's books. The customer's mouth was moving, but the blonde didn't appear to be listening.

Ignoring the cruelty of such an act, Caroline started looking through the stands of books, trying to find anything that looked good enough to review. Quickly, she spotted the 'Vampire' section. Warning herself against drooling, she practically skipped to the large shelf and immediately started running the titles through her mind. Most she'd read, but some she'd never heard of and written in languages she wasn't even sure were real languages.

She pulled out a particularly thick book entitled _Under the Cover of Night _and skimmed the inside cover, nodding her head and mouthing the words.

"Now this is a sight," an alluring voice sang. Caroline's ears perked and she snapped her head up, ignoring the pull in her neck. She frowned a mixture of confusion and irritation at the man standing in front of her with his eyebrows raised and a cheeky grin on his face. "A beautiful girl reading about vampires." Caroline detected the English accent straight away and the hint of a lisp. She ignored the flare in her belly at the word 'beautiful.'

He had dark blonde hair flopping above his forehead in untamed curls and a light smattering of stubble lining his square jaw. Her mind couldn't comprehend the colour of his eyes and she found herself narrowing her own eyes and leaning slightly forward to try to place a name on his tinted irises. His grin widened and dimples appeared. Caroline had to stop a moan midway out of her mouth.

"Can I help you? People usually have to pay money to stare at me this long." He said smugly. Caroline had a feeling he was teasing her and tore her gaze away from his eyes, looking instead at the rest of his body. He wore a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, the round neckline not quite encircling his throat. It reached just below the hips of his worn grey jeans and clung loosely to his stomach.

She didn't see the immediate outline of muscle, and then she blushed because why the hell was she staring at a stranger's stomach? Wasn't that a violation of something?

_Yeah, manners. Learn some. _

"Sorry," she mumbled, looking back at the book in her hands. A swarm of butterflies started brushing their wings against her gut and she bit back the urge to run away from the man still standing in front of her.

He laughed sweetly. Even his laugh stuttered with a lisp. "It's no trouble, darling. I have a beautiful face, people can't help but stare."

"Gosh, you get a gold star for modesty." She raised an eyebrow and snapped the book shut, returning it to its space on the first try. She did a quiet fist bump and smiled to herself.

"You like vampires, then?" He asked, ignoring her little jab. Caroline nodded her head, definitely not trusting her voice when such a handsome boy was watching her every movement. "Of course. They've really blown up since all that _Twilight _business."

"Oh, vampires were my thing long before that shit came out." Cupping a hand over her mouth, she mentally chastised herself for using such a fowl word in a place of business. "I'm so sorry," she whispered through her fingers. "I need to learn to not swear so much. Bad habit."

"I have a younger brother who practically doesn't know any other words. And I'm certain I'm the one he learned it from." He was smiling at her still and she couldn't help but smile back. He just had that kind of face, the one that drew you in and then tied you up, holding you captive. "So, before _Twilight_?"

Nodding her head again, Caroline removed her hand. "Yeah, way before. There's this big conspiracy in my town revolving around vampires and their existence, so we've always had a gigantic section at the library dedicated solely to vampires. I've been reading about the bloodsuckers since I was eight."

"Fascinating," he sighed genuinely. "Do they actually believe in vampires then, the people in your town?" Caroline was affronted for a second, but she heard the curiosity in his words and stopped herself from defending Mystic Falls.

"Um, some people, I'm sure. They're not loud about it or anything, but there's got to be a few believers. I mean, they're probably crazy, but to each their own." She said, rolling her eyes.

"And do you believe in vampires?" He had begun staring too intently at her.

Caroline laughed and looked away from his prying eyes. "Do I? No. It'd be cool if they existed, though. I'd love to live in a world of vampires."

"Says the girl who's been reading vampire novels since she was eight," he chuckled. "Or was it just the romantic ones?"

"Ha. _No_," she said forcefully. "I read any vampire book I could get my hands on. And yeah, I know they're evil and stuff, but I still think it'd be cool."

"Did you dream of being a vampire when you were younger?" He asked, raising his eyebrows so that his forehead creased.

Caroline scoffed. "Who didn't?" She didn't include the part about still wishing she could be a vampire. That was too weird.

"Mm, I think I probably wanted to be a vampire myself when I was a child. London has a few underground societies based upon the belief in vampires. I desired to be a part of one," he admitted, the words adding a bashful glint to his ever-present grin.

"London, huh?" She'd always wanted to go to London. Caroline's best friend Bonnie went there for university and said it was the greatest place on earth. Why she came to Mystic Falls always confused Caroline, but she supposed Jeremy was kind of a homebody and Bonnie would always be in love with that kid. Better to be with him than without him. Even though he'd been dating Vicki Donovan for the better part of two years. _Oh, Bonnie. I hope you find someone who _actually _likes you back_, Caroline thought to herself.

"London," he confirmed with a small nod of his head. "Ever been?"

Sighing wistfully, Caroline bit her lip. "Nah. Mystic Falls is home. I could barely get myself here. I think I'd have a panic attack if I went across an entire ocean."

"No way," he exclaimed in a whisper. Caroline jerked her eyes to his, furrowing her brows in question. "Mystic Falls, Virginia? That's your 'small town?'" He asked using air quotes around "small town."

"What about it?" Caroline asked, immediately offended.

"I've always wanted to go there. The people there back in the 19th century were obsessed with vampires. They wrote millions of journals dedicated to finding them. You live there?" He sounded like he'd just discovered sliced bread.

"Uh, yeah."

"Amazing."

"It's home."

They were quiet for a moment, the man shaking his head in disbelief and Caroline looking over the books by her side.

"Sorry," he said suddenly. Caroline flitted her gaze to his. "I should probably introduce myself. The name's Klaus and you are currently standing in my place of business."

He owned this place? This was his store?

Klaus held out a long hand. Caroline smiled politely and took the spindly appendage. It was warm and sent a jolt up her arm. She shivered. "Caroline. It's nice to meet you, Klaus." She looked around them, "so, this is yours?"

He let go of her hand and she felt the immediate loss. "Caroline." He smiled wider. "And yes, shared with my siblings. There's a lot of us, so only a small portion is mine."

"Wow, that's cool," Caroline breathed, finding it hard to push away the urge to run a hand through his hair. She'd already caught herself looking at the tousled locks more than once.

"They let me control the vampire section, so I'm happy." He laughed, kicking the bookshelf beside them lightly. "The girl at the register in front is my younger sister. Hey, could I give you a book recommendation?"

"Yeah, of course." Caroline said a little too fast. "I mean," she started again, slower, "I would love that."

"Wonderful," he replied, his body already turned away from her and his hands reaching above his head to grab at a book. A patch of skin peaked under the hem of his shirt and she desperately tried to memorise the beauty of his pale back. The flesh disappeared when he rotated to face her and Caroline shook her head as if she'd been in some trance.

_Put some ice on it, Caroline. _

She smiled up at him, hoping her blush wasn't too noticeable.

"I'm sure you've read it before, but this is supposedly a first edition. The publication page got ripped out though, so we'll never know," he said mysteriously, raising his eyebrows for dramatic effect. He handed her a very old copy of _Dracula_.

"First edition?" Her eyebrows met her hairline and she started delicately flipping through the book, running her thumb across the yellow-tinged pages. Without thinking, she brought the hardback up to her nose and sniffed. Her eyes slid closed as her senses were overwhelmed by the scent of _book_.

"You okay?" A strangely familiar English accent interrupted her sniffing session and she yanked the book away, looking at the ground abashed.

"Uh, yeah," she said to the floor more than Klaus. "Just. . .it smells nice."

"I love the smell of books, don't worry. If I weren't constantly surrounded by them, I'm sure I'd do that as well."

"You'd make it look a lot more attractive, I bet." She flinched at her choice of words and held back the urge to smack herself with the book.

"You looked rather beautiful doing it," he chuckled smoothly, lifting a hand to run through his hair. Oh, how she wanted to be a glove upon that hand.

"Ha, thanks," she replied lamely.

"I can check you out, if you'd like. There's a register in the back no one uses." His thumb went over his shoulder.

"Check me out?" Caroline asked drunkenly. She flinched again. _What is wrong with me!_

"The book?"

"Right."

"Wonderful." Everything was 'wonderful' with him.

He started walking away and it took Caroline a few stupid moments to realise she should follow. She jogged, falling in step behind him and getting a good view of the back muscles moving underneath his shirt.

_I bet he's got a sexy back. _She thought with a raised eyebrow.

_Oh, God, Caroline, stop it. Your obsession with backs is weird. _

"Here we are," Klaus said, stopping suddenly.

Caroline, who was currently blinded by images of him wet and naked in a shower, ran right into him. Stumbling forward and flailing her hands out, her fingers latched on to the fabric of his shirt as she tried to hold herself up. Klaus jerked back a bit when Caroline pulled, turning slightly to grab her elbows and yank her to her feet.

"Whoa there, sweetheart. Let's try to not kill us today. There's a new episode of _Top Gear _on tonight and I'll be damned if I miss it." Caroline could tell by the twinkle in his gorgeous eyes that he was playing with her, but she still grimaced and twisted her head away.

"Sorry," she murmured, watching him move behind the register out of the corner of her eye and fighting the flush blaring in her cheeks. "I have two left feet sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" He quipped, holding his hands out for the book. She gave it to him, her body heating when the skin of his calloused hand met the smoothness of hers.

"Yeah. But only when it's absolutely necessary that I have perfect balance. Like when I walked down the aisle at both of my graduations." She cringed at the memories. It wasn't her fault, those stupid gowns tripped her up.

Klaus laughed empathetically, which Caroline didn't know was possible. "I did that once, tripped down the aisle."

Caroline started laughing with him, but then stopped. Her eyes immediately went to scan his left hand. There was no ring, but maybe he didn't wear it during business hours?

He must've seen her looking because he cleared his throat and grinned like he was a guard who'd caught her trying to escape prison. "I was best man at my brother's wedding and I fell flat on my face. Broke my nose, actually. Although, I didn't know that until after I got shitfaced at the reception to mask the pain. The doctor said it was a miracle it set back in its proper place."

She almost sighed out loud when she realised he wasn't married. His nose did look rather perfect, if she could say so herself. It went straight down, but she could see a small bump at the bridge.

"You've got a nice nose," she blurted.

Through squinted eyes, she saw his grin widen. If he wasn't careful, it'd split his face. "I'll take that compliment, thank you."

"Yeah, just get me my book," she muttered, running a hand down her tired jaw.

Klaus stared at the book and started pressing random keys on the register. "Your total is $250, Caroline."

Caroline paused and opened her mouth, saying slowly, "uh, no, I think you mean _eight thousand_."

"We've got two first editions. Besides, missing publication page. It could be ten years old for all we know," he said simply, like it was normal to have two first editions of one of the greatest books of all time.

"Let's say for the sake of argument this is one hundred percent a first edition. You'll be stuck with just one first edition if I take this. I've got a lot of money saved up. Dad's kinda rich. I don't wanna cheat you guys out of a proper sale." She insisted. Bill Forbes had a habit of giving his daughter too much cash for her birthday and Christmas. She'd been saving since her parents split up. Every pay check, every lost cent on the side of the road. She was not short of money.

"Caroline." She was in love with the way he said her name. Like it was sugar on his lips. "We're a second-hand bookstore, not an auction house. Just give me your credit card."

She moved her wallet back. "I can't just take it."

"Two hundred and fifty dollars is a lot of money. Especially for this store. Trust me, just take the deal. Please?"

Looking between Klaus and the book, she debated with herself, quickly forming a pro/con list in her head.

Pro: First edition, hello!

Con: You're taking it for less money than it's worth. Much, much less.

Pro: It's fucking _Dracula_!

Con: How would Stoker feel?

Pro: A really hot guy is obviously flirting with you and in an attempt to get in your good graces, he's offering you a fucking first edition of _Dracula _for a fraction of what it's worth.

Con: Yeah, I got nothing.

"Okay, fine," she relented, trying to sound flustered. She could see his teeth shining with his smile. "Oh, put that away. You're blinding me." It was supposed to come out like a reprimand, but she giggled through every word. His cheeks bunched under his eyes and he looked at her through happy slits.

"I like smiling," he commented. He grabbed her credit card with diligent hands that probably knew exactly what they were doing and swiped the piece of plastic money. He gave it right back, moving to punch more buttons.

"I can tell," she countered. Taking her card, she stuffed it into her wallet and opened her palm for the book. Klaus placed it gently in her grip with a smile still plastered to his face like his lips were permanently stuck in that position. She wondered if he smiled when he kissed.

"Maybe I'll see you around, Caroline," he said lightly, jutting his chin out a bit.

She shook her head. "Don't count on it." She was leaving tomorrow.

"I'm one of those people who automatically wants to do the opposite of what someone tells me to do. So, dear Caroline, I'll be dreaming." He winked and she very nearly died right then.

Caroline turned away from him regretfully, feeling his smile burning her back as she clomped off. She could see his sister behind the register, chewing a piece of gum and twisting her hair with a pencil as she waited for more customers. Caroline felt glad Klaus had gotten to her before she had to face his model-esque yet evil-looking sister.

When she reached the door frame leading to the lobby she looked over her shoulder. He was still behind the register, watching her intently with a crease just above his nose. She gave him a fleeting grin that just barely lifted the corners of her mouth and walked out the door, getting the direction right that time (thank God). Signalling her exist, the bell dinged; the noise almost broke her heart.

She walked out into the busy crowd, moving her sunglasses down over her eyes and not caring that no one could see their shining glory.

With only one book in her possession, she strode back to her hotel. It wasn't far from the bookshop and when she got back up to her single-bedded room, she sat on the mattress and immediately opened _Dracula_. Sure enough, the publication page had been ripped out.

_Poor book._

She turned the page and blinked a few times, worried for a second her eyes had suffered permanent sun damage from the hundred watt smiles Klaus kept flashing her. Rubbing her fingers over her eyelids, she stared at the first page.

The sticky note was definitely there. And it definitely made her wish she wasn't leaving tomorrow morning to go back to Virginia.

She trailed a fingernail over the piece of paper. When had he gotten the chance to do it?

Written in handsome scrawl on a yellow sticky note, there was a short message and a phone number:

_Caroline, I'd love to see you again. _

_Call me, _

_Klaus x_

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_"Fixation or psychosis? Devoted to neurosis now."_

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**A/N 2: Okay, let me explain why I'm writing this. My goal with this story is to try to relax myself and hopefully you as well. There's been a lot of nail-biting concerning our favourite vampire/hybrid pair, so here's some fluff and smut to ease your aching souls. There'll be no major conflict in this. It's unrealistic, kinda cute/lame, and happy. We all need a bit of happy. And yes, I know there's no smut yet, but the rating will change when we get to the third chapter. Be prepared! And avert your eyes if it's not to your liking. **

**The bookshop owned by the Mikaelson's is, in fact, a real place in Alnwick Station, Northumberland. It's called Barter's Books and if anyone lives near there and hasn't gone, I suggest going. You can head to the website and see pictures of the inside. And if anyone reading this works there, I'm sorry for stealing your shop. It's one of my favourite places to go, so I thought I'd just go for it. Consider it free advertisement.**

**The title for this I took from a Panic! at the Disco song ("Collar Full") from their newest album _Too Weird to Live, Too Rare to Die, _(who else wants that tattooed on them now?), and each of the chapters will be little lines from that song. Chapters will begin and end with a little section from a Panic! song and I don't necessarily insist on listening to the songs, but if it makes you feel better, I'm all for people listening to music. **

**That was long and I apologise. Hope to see you all next time! Not that I can actually see you. . .**

**-LoveIsATemple**


	2. Second Guesses

**A/N 1: Hi again everyone. Hope the first chapter was taken well and this one will be too. Next chapter bumps the rating to an M by the way. **

**Please keep in mind that this is meant to be an easygoing story. I'm not trying to win awards with it. If there's any grammatical mistakes or if it just seems stupid, that's my own fault and I apologise. **

**Enjoy the next chapter and thank you to everyone who's supported it so far!**

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_"Where villains spend the weekend, _

_The deep end, _

_We're swimming with the sharks until we drown."_

_Vegas Lights | Panic! at the Disco_

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**Chapter 2: Second Guesses**

"Nope, I _can't_," Caroline sighed to herself for the fifth time since finding Klaus' number. She'd been going back and forth between calling him and leaving him hanging for a few minutes, debating with herself what Elena Gilbert would do.

Back in Mystic Falls Caroline Forbes had always been second. Didn't matter for what (prom queen, student council president, cheerleader captain), Caroline's enthusiasm and good looks only got her so far in the world of high school bitches and drama queens. She'd grown used to being second best, always behind Elena. Elena was the golden girl with gorgeous long brown hair and haunting eyes that bore into your soul every time you glanced her way for a millisecond.

When she left for university, when she broke away from her small town life and away from the Gilbert's, Caroline thrived. People adored her and boosted her up on a pedestal (one she did not exactly deserve, but she wasn't about to tell people that). College brightened her horizon, gave her the opportunities she'd missed out so often during high school. Suddenly people came to _her _for fashion advice and boy problems. Professors called on _her_ for the answers and gave her a million _A's_ on her papers and projects. She was a somebody.

Of course, being a somebody was not met without trouble. Boys had a habit of falling in love with her quite often and it dampened her spirits when they'd turn out to be losers not worth her tears or time. Most were the bad boy type, which Caroline admitted to falling for more often than not. But she'd learned from her mistakes.

Coming home after four years away was almost a culture shock. Maryland's young adult life thrived a completely different colour to Mystic Falls. Just a state away, Maryland was dangerous and thrilling where Mystic Falls was drab and pointless. Despite this, Caroline had set goals for herself, goals that started and ended in Mystic Falls.

Old and new neighbours didn't treat her differently. Everyone smiled when she arrived, but Elena Gilbert was slated to come back the day after her, so why bother with celebrating the blonde's return when you could praise the sparkly brunette (who definitely spent money on getting tanned).

Her parent's were paler than ghosts and Jeremy had told her once that he saw a bill for a tanning salon somewhere in Fairfax. So, yeah. . .she wasn't that perfect if she had to travel so far north just to get tan. At least Caroline was happy being blindingly pale.

Regardless, Caroline maintained her status as Elena's shadow. It almost didn't hurt. Partly because she could complete her evil genius plans without interruption. And when she announced that she'd be starting her own newspaper for the town—well, suddenly everyone wanted a piece of her.

Elena Gilbert included.

She picked up the sticky note again. It was beautiful. She'd have to preserve it forever and ever even if she decided not to phone. But why shouldn't she?

Elena Gilbert wouldn't, that's why. Elena was too busy being engaged to Stefan Salvatore. She didn't do one night stands.

_Ha, _Caroline laughed in her head, _better tell that to Damon before he tries anything again._

But what about Bonnie?

Bonnie said sleeping with random people sort of quelled her feelings for Jeremy. Caroline had jokingly called her a whore, and Bonnie did nothing to deny it.

"You don't understand, Caroline," Bonnie had said, exasperated. "You've never been in love with someone who just doesn't want you back."

Caroline nearly objected to that statement, but that would've revealed something to Bonnie that she'd never even talked about with herself. And she talked to herself a lot more than most insane people.

"What to do, Caroline? What do we do now?" She asked herself, pacing back and forth on the grimy, pink carpet covering her hotel room floor. The fluff stuck between her toes and if she stared at it long enough the carpet flashed alive, roaring like a pale flame dancing underfoot. Her brain was no closer to figuring out how to handle the Klaus situation despite the hidden beauty in the disgusting carpet fibres.

Pro: He's fucking adorable.

Con: He can sometimes be a narcissist.

Pro: Who the hell cares? He's too handsome not to be a narcissist.

Con: He probably only wants you for tonight. I'll bet he does this all the time with girls. Girls in the 'Vampire' section, the 'Romance' section. . .Hell, probably even the 'Geology' section.

Pro: He's only going to get me for one night, though. Why not just do it? Do him?

Con: It'll break your heart. You did this with Tyler, remember?

Pro: Shut up, we do not speak that name! And so what? My heart needs a little sorrow. All the good vampire novels have sorrow.

Con: Your reasoning is flawed. So, utterly flawed.

Pro: But he's so good looking.

Con: So are you. Go find someone in Mystic Falls. Matty's still single.

Pro: Matty's still hopelessly pining after Elena. Give this to me!

Con: Flawed reasoning, Caroline. Flawed.

Pro: You know what? I'm gonna call Bonnie. You're no help.

Con: Hey, no, this is a teamwork thing. Finding the pros and the cons. You can't just call Bonnie.

Pro: I can and I fucking will. You suck anyway. You never let me have fun.

Con: You don't like fun.

Pro: I do. You just wouldn't know that because we never have any.

Con: Fine. Get your heart broken.

Pro: Don't mind if I do.

"Okay, I'm. . .weird," mumbled Caroline. She searched through her purse and grabbed ahold of her phone, pressing the number 4 down for a few seconds before Bonnie's number popped up on the screen. She heard a faint ringing, put the phone up to her ear, and waited.

There was a crackle and a breathy squeal and then Bonnie's voice blasted Caroline's eardrum. She flinched away from the phone.

"Why are you calling me?" Bonnie asked, still breathless.

Caroline scrunched her nose and stopped pacing. "Oh, God. You aren't having sex, are you?"

A pause.

"Well, not right now."

"Gross. That's just too gross."

Bonnie giggled childishly. "I'll repeat, Caroline, why are you calling me? You're on your last day in New Orleans! Go do something fun!"

"That's actually why I'm calling." Caroline moved in front of the window in her hotel room and stared down at the street below. Everyone looked so busy. She wondered where they were going in such a rush.

"Calling me doesn't sound like much fun, Care."

Caroline shook her head in exasperation. "No, no, Bon. I need advice on _how_ to have fun."

"You're such a loser."

"Geez, I'm having a bit of trouble remembering why I called you."

"Because you're a loser who needs help on having fun!"

"Yeah," Caroline exhaled. "Just a bit of help."

"Okay, loser, what have you got for me?" Bonnie asked, like she was the answer to the world's problems.

"Ugh. This is frustrating."

"Just tell me. I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything."

Caroline bit her lip, an inkling of guilt stirring in my tummy. "Right, right. Okay." She nodded her head and started pacing again. "So I went to that bookstore I told you about and met this really attractive guy. Kind of blondish, got these really weird eyes that change colour if you don't look at them long enough, and he's obsessed with vampires. He's British too. And tall. And he's got a lisp. He's kind of like perfection if perfection were a British male with a lisp and a vampire fetish."

"Vampire fetish? Ew."

"Well, no. Not a vampire fetish. That does sound kind of weird. But how would I know? It's not like I've slept with him!" Caroline exclaimed, throwing her free hand around and smacking her forehead.

"I'm kind of confused why you need help. You met a cute guy, who cares?"

"Bonnie! He gave me his number and I don't know how to deal with it!"

"Call him or don't call him. Two options. You're not deciding whether or not America should go to war. Just choose." There was a another pause. Caroline thought she could hear a man's voice. Bonnie gasped. "Wait," she said in all-too-serious tone. "You're not planning on sleeping with him, are you?"

Caroline didn't say anything.

"Oh my god! You little minx! I taught you well! Why are you debating? Hot, British, and vampire-crazy. He's your soulmate."

"Bonnie, I leave tomorrow." She hated herself for going into the store on her last day. For meeting such a charismatic, fantastic guy on _her fucking last day_.

"Then he's your soulmate for tonight. You deserve this, Caroline. Just—go for it."

Go for it? Could she do that to herself? Did she have the strength to sleep with someone, let someone see every scar, every vulnerability, and then pack up her bags and leave?

_One night, Caroline. _She tapped her foot against the carpet, watching it flame around her red-painted toes. _He's your soulmate for one night. _

There was something oddly poetic about that thought. She'd give herself to Klaus tonight and he'd hold up no fight against letting her imprint on him. He'd see her at her ugliest and then at her most spectacular. She could do it.

". . .Okay."

Bonnie squealed some more. "Tell me about it when you get back, okay?"

"Of course," she promised, her heart already beating faster and faster with every passing second. She could hear it in her ears, banging against her brain.

_No inhibitions, Caroline. Just let go. _

"Go call him!" Bonnie shouted. And then hung up, probably to drape herself over some guy. She never did like to drag out goodbyes.

Caroline squeezed the phone against her ear and huffed, pulling it down so she could stare at the screen. She swiped at a few keys and brought the number pad up, her index finger hovering over the first button of Klaus' number.

_It's a fucking five, Caroline. Just press it. _

Eventually the entire number splayed out before her eyes and her thumb moved to press the "CALL" key.

_Just do it!_

She pressed down, feeling her anxiety spike and her belly coil so tight she thought she might throw up.

The phone started ringing. It made her sees flashes of light.

"What the fuck do I say?" She asked herself, rubbing a hand against her forehead and wishing she could curl up and die. "What the fuck do I say?"

"I seem to remember you telling me you'd work on that whole foul language thing," a smug, British accent replied.

Caroline gasped and, on instinct, yanked the phone away from her ear and pressed the "END CALL" key.

"Shit," she breathed. Her hair stuck to the back of her neck. God, it was hot in there.

Her phone vibrated in her hand. Without thinking, without giving herself time to think, she pressed "ANSWER" and spoke as calmly as she could muster, "Hello?" Her voice wavered significantly. _Shoot me now! _

"Caroline, hi. Did you just hang up on me?" There were hints of a smile in his words.

"I—uh—it was an accident. Sorry." Caroline now knew what her heart tasted like.

"No, no, don't apologise. I'm glad you phoned. Didn't expect it so soon, but I'm all for a girl taking the lead." If she were with him right then, she'd probably see his eyebrows go up suggestively.

She shook her head in embarrassment. "I'll bet."

"So, did you call just for a chat of nonsensical things or did you have plans for an actual conversation?"

"What if I did just call to spout nonsense things?"

"Then I could tell you that after his brother got lock jaw as a result of tuberculosis, Henry David Thoreau suffered from sympathy symptoms well after his brother passed away. Or I could also say Washington Irving is the reason the New York Nicks are called the New York Nicks. Mm, also, Mark Twain, or Samuel Clemens as he was known before his writing days, joined the Confederate army for just two weeks before fleeing to Nevada during a gold rush." Klaus gasped on the other line, having spoken all those facts in one breath.

Caroline didn't know how to reply.

"Wow." She settled on simplicity. "That's—you really like books, don't you?"

"I do own a bookshop."

"Part of a bookshop," Caroline reminded him, smiling.

His laughed and it sent shivers down her spine. Her head spun as he spoke, "Well, I majored in English. Books are my thing."

"Hey, broadcast journalism. We're kinda similar."

"Kind of, I suppose," he giggled. She followed suit, unable to stop herself. "Did you call for a reason, Caroline? Because while I could listen to you speak in your crackly voice all day, I have paperwork to get back to. . ."

"Shit, right. Shit, sorry. Shit. God, I need to stop saying shit. I did it again! Ugh!" There was no mistaking the cackle that tumbled out of Klaus' mouth. "Shut up. I called to ask if you wanted to go out tonight," she rushed, closing her eyes and hoping she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her entire life.

"Caroline," he said seriously, but she could still detect the lifting edges of his mouth. "I'd love to."

"Great! Fantastic. I mean, yeah, that's totally okay with me." She cringed, flopping down on her bed and burying her face in a pillow.

"Wonderful. How about you meet me at the pub next to the shop at around seven?" If she didn't know any better, she'd say he sounded nervous.

Seven. That left thirteen hours until the airport required her presence. That wasn't so bad. Provided she didn't get wasted.

"I can do that," she said, more to herself than Klaus.

"Wonderful," he said through a smile.

"See you at seven, then," Caroline rolled slowly.

"Can't wait. Oh, my siblings will be there too. Just a fair warning, they're not the most polite bunch."

Before she could react, before she could say she'd changed her mind and couldn't go, Klaus hung up and she was left listening to her phone beep.

His siblings. His many siblings? Even the blonde with the bubblegum?

"Shit."

..1..

Caroline spent an hour in the shower, banging her head against the cold tile and groaning. The universe hated her, that must be it. That was the only explanation for her current predicament.

She shaved her legs (because who knows? maybe she'll be a little more like Bonnie tonight) and washed her hair and scrubbed her face and cut her leg on accident and cursed out her razor for being so shitty and cursed herself for saying that word again and hopped out the shower on one leg with exfoliating scrub burned on her cheeks, conditioner in her hair, and blood bouncing down her leg, splattering the white shaving creme in its thick redness.

It looked pretty.

After cleaning herself up, she plastered a band-aid on her leg and finished washing her hair and face. She slipped on the one dress she'd packed with her, a pale blue sundress with spaghetti straps that dug a bit too deep into her shoulders. Loosening them, she felt the pressure ease and her heart flutter.

Books were Klaus' thing, but shoes were Caroline's. Two weeks meant fourteen different pairs of amazing footwear that she had to pay extra to get to New Orleans because it required adding a whole other suitcase to her luggage. She browsed the sparkling collection of flats, stilettos, boots, and toms. The little red ballet flats called her name and she gently curved her foot into them.

Standing in front of the mirror, Caroline admired her beauty for a vain minute. Hair up to reveal her to-die-for collarbone, pink dusted cheeks, deep red lips, and a line of mascara on her upper lashes. Magnificent. Wonderful.

Boring, but wonderful.

Second best, but wonderful.

She checked the time. She had to leave now if she wanted to get to the pub before seven.

It was cool, but hot, outside the hotel. Sunglasses were not needed, the sun was too far away from her. She clung to her purse, stretching the strap around her neck until it tucked neatly between her breasts, and started walking. Men and women, boys and girls, lovers and haters, all turned their heads to watch the magnificent, wonderful blonde as she swayed her hips. Allowing a small smile to pull at her lips, she occasionally gave someone a full on stare, giggling as they would turn away abashed.

The pub looked very European on the outside, like it had been stolen from some movie set. She walked in carefully and the door swung shut behind her. She flinched when the patrons, drunk and loud, stared at her in mild annoyance.

It was like any old bar inside, but it held a rustic feel. There were no scantily clad women with aprons roped tight around their waist, nor were there any televisions playing a random sports game.

Music wafted through speakers mounted above the bar.

Her head moved around and she watched for any sign of Klaus. Or anyone who looked remotely like him. No one popped out to her, though, so she strode to the bar and hopped up on a stool. Two men sat a few seats away from her, both giving her a sideways glance as she placed her purse on the wooden countertop. She raised an eyebrow at them and they looked away.

Behind the bar, a man wearing a towel draped over his shoulder hopped in front of her, clapping his hands loudly as if to get her attention even though she'd already been watching him.

He grinned and his teeth sparkled white. "Can I get you anything?"

Caroline thought for a moment, tapping her finger against her chin. "Um, gin margarita." She decided she'd need a little liquid courage if this evening were going to work in the slightest.

"Right away," the bartender said, winking. Unlike when Klaus did it earlier that day, she tasted acid in her mouth.

The drink was placed on a coaster by her right hand, but she didn't look up to thank him. She dipped her head and immediately wrapped her fingers around the glass, taking a sour sip and sadistically enjoying the painful pinch as it slid down her throat.

It'd been a year and a bit since Caroline had gone out on a date and she was slightly rusty on the etiquette. Not that this was a date. It was a get together. It wasn't a date because Caroline left the next morning. She couldn't let it be a date.

An arm slung around Caroline's shoulders and she took too long to turn her head.

A childishly handsome face stared back at her, wide-eyed and smirking. "Why is someone as stunningly beautiful as you drinking alone?"

Before she could reply, his arm twisted off her skin and she heard a muffled 'Uncle!' escape his lips as someone pinned his arm against his spine. Caroline scooted back, suddenly frightened as she watched this man writhe. Her eyes flashed to see who the attacker was.

"Klaus?" She said, but it came out like a question, the word, his name, slipping up. He glanced at her, blew her a smile that could melt Antarctica, and slammed the boy's face into the countertop. Caroline gasped. "Klaus, stop it!"

"No, no, love," Boyish Face mumbled, his lips smacking against wood. "He's my brother."

Caroline moved her eyes between the man-boy squashed against the counter and Klaus, still smiling like a shark high on fish blood. "That's your brother?" She asked. Boyish Face nodded. "Let him go, Klaus."

"Ugh, fine," Klaus mumbled, letting his brother's arm go. The boy rotated his shoulder and massaged his hand.

Caroline smiled strangely at Klaus, unsure why she didn't feel a little offended that he automatically came to her rescue. When Tyler—no. She wouldn't go there.

"So, you're the reason we're going out on a weeknight," Boyish Face noted, his brown eyes rolling over Caroline. She got the sudden urge to cover herself up. "Fantastic." This one also had a British accent, but it was less pronounced than Klaus'. She wondered how long they'd lived in America.

"Uh, yeah," she whispered, meaning for it to come out louder. "Caroline," she said firmly, holding her hand out.

"Kol Mikaelson," he responded thickly, grabbing her hand hard and bringing her knuckles to his lips. She blushed when she felt his tongue dip out and wet the small scar she had on her middle knuckle.

"That's enough," she heard Klaus clip.

Kol released Caroline and brought his head up, a gleam in his eye like he'd done something sinister. Perhaps he had. . .

"What has gotten into you, brother?" The younger man asked, patting Klaus on the chest. Klaus pulled away and moved to sit the other side of Caroline. She felt sandwiched between sin and then even more sin.

"I told you to be on your best behaviour tonight, Kol," Klaus said indignantly, motioning for the bartender. The sly man approached and winked again at Caroline; she thought she could hear the scraping of a chair and startled a bit when Klaus' thigh brushed hers.

Klaus ordered drinks, not looking at Caroline, but keeping their legs pressed.

A swarm of giant moths began eating her insides and she quickly moved her head to look at Kol. He was harmless. A flirt.

"So, how long have you lived here?" She chirped, swallowing a moan when Klaus' leg slid against her own as he moved closer to Caroline, no doubt to eavesdrop.

Kol smiled lazily and moved his arm in front of Caroline to grapple at the drink Klaus had ordered him. It smelled like vodka as it passed under Caroline's nose. "Years. Far too many, if you ask me."

"Why do you say that?" Caroline bit her lip, a scalding flame burning her outer thigh.

"Because while I adore New Orleans, I've never felt at home here. Granted, England was never home, either. But this place isn't mine. It's more my elder siblings."

Caroline bowed her head in understanding. "I get that. Minus the older siblings part."

"I thought you said Mystic Falls was home," Klaus pipped, his mouth dangerously near Caroline's ear. She burned red and prayed he couldn't see.

"Mystic Falls is home," she replied, not looking at him and trying to contain the quiver of her voice. She shifted a bit so she was facing forward and spoke to the bottles of liquor lined at the bar. "But I went to university in Maryland and struggled with wanting to go back every month or so. My roommates didn't know what to do with me."

"Tell me more about this magical land," Kol gleamed, brushing shoulders with Caroline. She shifted closer to Klaus absently.

"Maryland? Or Virginia?"

"Both."

"Hey, Kol," Klaus interrupted. Caroline watched Kol's head turn to his brother. "Why don't you go sit with our dear brothers and sister while I stay here with Caroline." It wasn't a suggestion. Caroline smiled at the jealous tone attributed to his words and wondered if he was always like this.

Kol mumbled something under his breath that sounded obscene and jumped down from the bar, strolling to a table filled with three other boys and a female. She recognised her as the girl from the register and saw a disapproving look cross her eyes before turning away and facing Klaus.

He was too close. Or maybe she was too close.

"Sorry about him. Now you can tell _me _all about Mystic Falls and Maryland," he lilted, tilting his head ever so slightly that Caroline caught sight of a few moles decorated on his throat.

"Do you have a vampire fetish?" She asked without thinking. _Good job, Caroline. You definitely haven't been on a date in more than twelve months. _

Klaus didn't look offended. In fact, he smiled even wider, showing off his bicuspids. "I do not. Do you?" He raised an eyebrow and looked up at her through his lashes.

Shaking her head, Caroline sighed out a heavy, "Nooo. . . My friend wanted to know."

"You spoke to your friend about me?" He sounded lighthearted and flattered. She watched him place a hand over his shirt. "I didn't think we'd gotten so far in our relationship that we could mention each other to friends."

"Oh, bite me, Klaus." She rolled her eyes painfully, staving off another blush attack.

"I told you I don't have a vampire fetish. Biting's not really my thing." He clamped his teeth together in demonstration and his jaw clinked magically.

"Mhm."

"So, Caroline," he droned, lowering his head so he was staring straight into her soul. "Tell me about yourself."

His gaze was so intense she had to blink several times to think properly. _It's been too long, Caroline. Your body just doesn't know what it's doing. _

That was easier to think than _Oh my God, I think I'm in love with a guy I've only known for a few hours. _

"Um, what do you want to know?" She offered with a fluttering laugh.

"Anything." His eyes melted.

"I could give you a short biography."

"Make it a long one, please. I desperately don't want to go home."

Her heart seized. Did he want to stay because of her? Or did home just suck in general?

"I'm waiting, Caroline," he sang gently, clinking his glass of amber liquid against hers.

"Okay, well. . .I was born—"

"No, no." Klaus pressed a finger—a warm, slender, sweet-smelling finger—to her red lips. Her breath got lost somewhere and so did her words. "Not that long. Just, tell me about yourself. Your passions, dreams, desires. Fetishes, maybe, if you feel so inclined."

She jerked back and saw a small amount of her lipstick staining his pale hand. She didn't tell him. "Right. I don't have fetishes, by the way. Just thought I should clear that one up."

"Oh, I'm sure you have some tucked underneath that angelic smile of yours."

"What do you hope to gain from my back story, Klaus?" She asked, paying no attention to his suggestion.

"A little more information about you. Was that not obvious?"

"Why do you want to know about me, though? Because I was standing by the vampire novels in your store?"

"Just want to know, love. Don't think too much."

"Is it about Mystic Falls?" Caroline pressed. Given her history, telling people things about herself, often lay on the back burner.

"Can't I be a little curious? Does it have to come with ulterior motives?"

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Do you feel seduced?"

Caroline recoiled. "No." She shoved the word out her mouth like it was lead burning through her tongue.

Klaus only laughed. "I'm not trying to seduce you. Come on, Caroline. Tell me something. Anything."

She relented, and, thanks to the few sips of alcohol she'd consumed (_always a lightweight, huh, Caroline. . ._), her mouth was a little more nimble than usual. She told him about that one time in high school. . .and that other time at the swimming pool. . .and then she told him about that frat party at college. . .and the time her mother walked in on her. . .when her skirt got caught on. . .the day Tyler broke someone's. . .seven minutes in heaven with. . .her newspaper. . .her father. . .

"Okay, that's way too much information. And you've just been staring blankly this whole time. Tell me something about _you_," she said through fits of giggles. She was only halfway through her first margarita, but her head swam, and if she moved her eyes too quick the room spun.

"But you have such a fascinating life. Tell me that story again. The one about the gum. . ." he let his sentence trail off with glee, a glossy smile playing at his lips, tightening his forehead and swelling his cheeks. She was two seconds away from pouncing on him.

"Hey, that was traumatic. And no else one knows about it," she berated jokingly.

"I can imagine. Having to cut your hair because some person stuck gum in it. That's actually quite disgusting, love. You're sure you've no idea who carried out the dastardly deed?"

"Gonna beat them up for me ten years after the fact?" Caroline asked sarcastically.

"Never hurts to get a reminder of your horrid past," Klaus defended, crossing his arms and leaning closer to Caroline's face.

"They put gum in my hair. They didn't set me on fire," she lulled, her eyelids drooping. "Tell me something about you, Klaus," she whined sleepily.

"I've got too many stories to share." He'd been evasive all night.

"Why do you look so sad?" She asked, surprising herself with the blatancy of her question. But now that she looked at him in a harsher light (albeit a slightly drunk light) she saw the trail of lines surrounding his eyes and the hollow grey circles shadowed under his lower lashes.

"I think you're a little drunk," he said with a smooth laugh.

"And I think you're terribly lonely." Again, she surprised herself. Caroline bordered on bold daily, but she was spitting out words with no filter, a trait she could've sworn she'd gotten rid of during high school.

"What makes you say that?" He sounded a little frightened. And a little wounded, like he'd been hoping no one would ever figure out his dark riddle.

"It's written on your lips, Klaus." She felt a little something stir inside her as Klaus' eyes moved from hers to her lips to the glass clenched in his fist.

"My lips?" He questioned disbelievingly, not looking at her still.

"Mm, your lips."

"You're drunk."

"Tell me."

"Will you remember in the morning?" He jerked his head in her direction. His eyes looked extraordinarily blue.

"Maybe," she trilled with a sway of her head.

"You're beautiful," Klaus dripped, observing her with a scolding leer.

"Is that the secret behind your sadness?"

"Beautiful women are my weakness."

Caroline blinked. "So I'm not the only one?"

"What do you mean?" He let go of his drink and set his hand a few inches away from her fingers.

"Girl you've chatted up in your shop."

"I chat to women at the shop. It's a part of the job, communication skills." He was trying to be sarcastic, but it wasn't working too well.

"But do you take them out and get them drunk and then sleep with them? Only to toss them out in the morning?"

"Okay, first off, you're getting yourself drunk." He snatched her drink away and she wobbled trying to get it back. He shot her a smile and she frowned back. "And second, who said anything about sleeping with you?"

"I did," she said a bit too bravely. Her blood started boiling in her veins, heating her neck and chest and cheeks.

"I'm not one to take advantage of drunk women on the first date."

"Aha!" Caroline almost shouts, wobbling a bit more. "So his _is_ a date. I knew it."

He laughed merrily and patted her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her flesh. "Yes, I believe so."

"I have something to tell you," Caroline whispered, leaning in. She wasn't really that drunk, she knew what she was doing. But she couldn't help it. He smelled so good. Like spices and the woods and books. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

Klaus sucked in a sharp breath that looked oddly painful and straightened his back. The words hurt her too.

"Tomorrow? Back to Virginia?" He asked, his head moving from side to side like he didn't want it to be true.

"Don't look so sad. We've got tonight," she warbled sweetly.

"Are you trying to seduce me, love?"

"If I say yes, can we get out of here?" He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Caroline grinned. "Then yes!" She squeaked, hopping off her stool and magically landing on her feet. She opened her purse and threw a few bills on the bar counter.

"How drunk are you?" He asked, waving to his family and placing a warm hand on her back. She could feel five fingers pressing through the fabric of her dress.

"Not even slightly," Caroline insisted, twisting her neck to gauge the reaction of his siblings. They all stared after her and Klaus, jaws slackened and eyes wide.

"Prove it."

"Z, Y, X, W, V, U, T, S, R, Q—"

"Okay, duly noted," he smiled, opening the pub door and pushing her through. Darkness was about to befall New Orleans and it looked stunning. He looked stunning.

"You really don't do this?" She asked, hoping he'd understand the insinuation.

Stopping their movements, Klaus turned around and put his hands on either of Caroline's shoulders, moving his eyes between hers and landing his gaze on her right eye. "Not for a long time. Not since I was young and stupid."

"Now you're old and stupid?" There was heat spreading from where he touched her bare skin, flushing her entire body and sending warmth to her core.

"I'm only thirty. And not too stupid," he defended quietly, refusing to break their staring contest. He moved his attention to her left eye.

"I think I might be stupid," she admitted, flicking her eyes to his lips. They looked so smooth.

"What makes you say that, Caroline?"

She didn't answer, she just continued staring at his parted lips. And when his tongue darted out to wet them. . .well, she lost her mind.

With no breath in her body, Caroline leapt forward and blindly found Klaus' mouth. He stumbled back, but righted himself quickly and flung his arms around her waist, pulling her closer and closer and closer until her nipples peaked against her dress and pressed into his upper torso. She groaned into the kiss and grappled at Klaus' neck in an attempt to _just get him closer_.

She needed him closer.

Her hand got lost in his hair and his fingers painfully brushed her spine. Their jaws hung open, his tongue heavy and thick in her mouth, brushing a sensitive spot and making her shiver despite the heat crowding her nerve-endings.

She was buzzing, alive. Electricity coursed through her and sparked at her fingertips. Caroline sucked on Klaus' lips, trying to get the air from his lungs, to capture his life.

They tore apart with panting breaths and crooked smiles, neither aware of the audience watching them. He leaned his forehead against hers and whispered the words that flung her completely over the edge and left her with no hope of ever resurfacing.

"Come home with me."

* * *

**A/N 2: Fun fact, I lived through that gum story when I was in fourth grade. Some random person in my class (I still have no idea who!) stuck bubble gum in my hair and I never told anyone. Just cut it out. Luckily I have really curly hair so it wasn't noticeable, but it was really disgusting.**

**"Pro" and "Con" are meant to read like Caroline's shoulder angel and devil. Like they have in cartoons for comic relief. My favourite is in _Emperor's New Groove _when Kronk's got his shoulder buddies chatting up a storm. **

**And all that random information about authors was true. My eleventh grade English teacher was super obsessed with author's history. We had a quiz every week on all we'd learned and it seems that a bunch of odd details stuck with me.**

**Anyway, hope this one was well received. Next chapter will pick up back at Klaus' place and will get considerably less safe for young eyes, I'm warning you now.**

**Thanks a million!**

**-LoveIsATemple**


	3. Tonight I'll Be the Libertine

**A/N 1: Happy spring forward everyone! I feel kind of weird publishing this chapter on a Sunday, but ah well. Hopefully God won't mind.**

**I have to be honest, I rewrote this chapter three times. And while I'm fairly satisfied with it, I don't know what the crowd reaction will be. Remember the rating has now jumped to an M. **

**Thank you so very much all the wonderful support! It's amazing and I can't believe it. You guys are the best. **

**This chapter gets less fluffy and more intimate. Just a fair warning. The fun sex _may_ (wink, wink) come later, but now they need the heavyset, emotional sex. And if people haven't realised this already, these guys are pretty OOC. Sorry if that offends anyone. This is for fun, nothing else.**

**All mistakes are mine and I really, really hope you guys like it. Go easy on me if you don't.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_"Hey, a casual affair that__ could go anywhere_

_and only for tonight._

_Take any moment any time,_

_a lover on the left, a sinner on the right."_

_Casual Affair | Panic! at the Disco_

* * *

(Libertine _n. _A person who behaves without moral principles or a sense of responsibility - esp. in sexual matters.)

* * *

**Chapter 3: Tonight I'll Be the Libertine**

He tasted like bourbon and leather-bound books with cracks in their spines. Like trust and faithfulness. She was swimming in an ocean of him, but instead of thrashing around, gasping for air, she was allowing herself to get dragged beneath the waves of his curly hair.

She was drowning and it was okay.

Klaus hadn't paused when they'd reached the apartment complex. He already had some key in his grip and he jammed it in the lock, twisting until it gave. He pushed through, guiding Caroline behind him, looking back every few seconds as if he were scared she'd floated away in the time he'd not been staring.

She was having trouble remembering herself, remembering what she was doing. It was like an outer body experience. Maybe she'd been inebriated before, but she definitely wasn't now. Now she was high on some drug. A drug transfused through her skin wherever Klaus touched, kissed, breathed. She was less herself than she was him.

She didn't want to leave in the morning.

Pale darkness wrapped itself around them like a loose jacket that was too old and had too many holes in it. Warmth from him warped her body, infiltrating her insides, forcing her onwards, upwards, into his bedroom, into his soul. Instead of tumbling back like she normally would have, instead of recoiling, she found the final nudge, the final push, and fell forward into Klaus. Her arms wound around his neck, yanking him to her, and his hands, his gorgeous hands, locked on to her hips.

The gesture was oddly intimate, and Caroline swore the moment his fingers pressed down on the fabric covering her waist, when she could feel the beating of his heart pulse against her skin, that she knew everything about him. All his secrets, his desires, his hatred, his love; all there for her to witness and swallow up as her own. It frightened her, the intensity of this situation.

Too many boys, boys who swore they knew the world and its secrets, used her and stole her and never gave her back. She was always the throwaway, the rebound, the easy. Parts of her felt for the foolish men she allowed in her bed because she held on to the belief that sex meant connection no matter the emotional distance between partners.

Other parts hated them; hated the way they abandoned her in the morning time after time and left her with nothing but a used condom and broken dreams.

She was tired of feeling like the other woman, the one they all ran to when they needed a release. She wanted the intensity, the heavy feeling. She _needed _it. And she needed it here, now, with Klaus. And the way his eyes changed colour ever so quickly from light to plummeting darkness made her think that maybe that deeper connection, the one she'd desired for so long, was closer than she originally thought.

Caroline pulled away for a moment. Looking up at him, she saw a feral-like admiration in his eyes. It sunk his features greatly and with a flame licking the lining of her belly, creeping down to her core, she gently traced the lines of his face, letting her fingertips drag out the loneliness.

"One night, Caroline. It's one night." He begged her between kisses.

It _was_ begging, she could hear it in the trill of his voice.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ She asked herself, refusing to tear her eyes away from his.

Pro: Caroline, you want this. Stop freaking out.

Con: She's just protecting herself like a good girl. You don't need him.

Pro: Be like Bonnie, remember? Not Elena.

Con: She only knows how to be Elena's shadow. She doesn't know how to be Bonnie. Or herself.

Pro: She's learning. You're learning, Caroline. Do this for yourself.

Con: It'll hurt like a bitch when you're the one leaving in the morning, Care.

Pro: It's a small world. Maybe they'll see each other again.

Con: Not small enough.

"You're so sure it'll take only one night to get over me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Klaus' smile widened to Cheshire grin, his teeth sparkling with happiness and childlike humour. She almost couldn't see the lust. "It'll take forever to get over you, I'm sure. You'll devour me, Caroline."

Okay, she could see the lust now. It was in his eyes and, if she were being truthful, his lips; they were slick with saliva and smudges of her red lipstick. They called to her, roped her in. She jutted her chin, forcing their mouths closer.

"Devour you?" She sighed sweetly, daring to trail her fingers up his side. His skin rippled under his shirt.

Klaus visibly swallowed, his Adam's apple jumping. Caroline wanted to catch it mid-bob between her teeth.

"Maybe devour isn't the right word." Klaus spoke, but Caroline barely paid attention, too enthralled by the bouncing going on in the Brit's neck. "Destroy, perhaps."

"Pretty sure those are synonymous with each other," she mumbled while still staring at his pulse running against his throat.

"Ruin?"

"Also a synonym of devour."

"Which one of us has an English degree?" Klaus asked through a smile.

"I'm a journalist. It's my job to know words," she returned, carefully studying the look in his eye. The look that said 'I know you and I want you and I don't want to let go.'

"Well, if not devour or destroy or ruin, what might you plan on doing to me?"

Caroline pretended to think, moving back slightly, separating them, and bowing her body. Her thumb traced her lips sensually and she wondered in the back of her mind if she was doing the whole teasing thing right. Bonnie had told her once to always keep a guys attention on you; your lips, your boobs, anywhere, just as long as their eyes drooled over some sexy part of your body. She couldn't fight the pleased smile that threatened to snap her cheeks when she saw Klaus glaring at her swollen lips.

"Stuff," she said with all the nonchalant she could muster.

Klaus hummed delightedly. "I like the sound of that."

"Yeah?" Caroline asked, staring at the space between his eyebrows.

"Caroline." She swooned when he said her name, the way it tumbled off his tongue turning her into jelly. He forced her to look him in the eye, to witness the blazing gaze. "Come here."

Caroline didn't obey at first, when all that connected them was a stare. But then his nails scraped her wrist and goosebumps popped up everywhere and she had no choice, absolutely no choice, but to collapse.

Klaus' fingers burned a crushing trail as they slunk down her cloth-covered abdomen and met the hemline of her dress. She automatically lifted her arms, feeling puffs of his breath as he pulled the garment up and threw it away, far away where it could no longer come between them.

Watching Klaus watch her almost naked body oddly turned her on and she chewed her lip as his wide eyes, flickering with the darkest flames, trailed invisible lines up and down her bare flesh.

Her bones started aching for him, for his touch and his mouth.

Con: Caroline, you don't know this guy. He could be a murderer.

Pro: He's harmless. Well, for all intents and purposes.

Con: He'll break you.

Pro: Not if you break him first.

Caroline grabbed at Klaus' scruffy face, her thumbs circling the hidden dimples in his cheeks, and kissed him. Just like that. She shaped her chapped lips over Klaus' wetly, searingly. She consumed him, her body alive and buzzing when he explored the expanse of skin.

The world went hazy and Klaus walked her backward until her calves hit something hard. Vertigo overcame her, her body dipping down and coming into contact with a soft material. _Bed_, she thought lazily, hungrily, as Klaus removed his lips from hers and left openmouthed kisses on her throat.

Caroline gasped when Klaus climbed over her, his hands blindly reaching behind her and swiftly unclasping her strapless bra. Deft fingers met her soft breasts, breasts that had not been touched by another human being in over a year, and she swallowed a moan as a hot mouth met the sensitive flesh in the wake of fingers and thumbs and nails.

Klaus spent time moving between her chest, kissing every square inch he could find, marking his territory with tender bites to her sensitive nipples (_what was that about not biting, Klaus?_). Caroline wound her fingers in his hair, pressing his face further into her torso, arching her back when he'd hit a particularly 'right there' spot.

She trembled in anticipation as his mouth moved up and up to capture her lips and his hand went down, down to the small garb coating her heated lower half. Everything was on fire, her body burning like his eyes as he asked permission without using words, asked her if he could do this. Her head moved of its own accord, her eyelids drooping as his cold/hot fingers slid the silk down.

Now she was naked, fully and completely open, and she hadn't even gotten his shirt off.

He could read her mind, she was sure of it, for as soon as she thought about ripping his clothes off, he sat up fast and impatiently removed all that covered his body.

Caroline studied him the way she'd allowed him to study her, with the eyes of an artist who'd never before seen such beauty in such a human thing. He was beautiful and hers. If only for one night.

Grey smattered the toxic mood and to prevent feelings from getting too dismal, Caroline started outlining all the grooves and dips and bumps of Klaus' abdomen, giggling whenever she'd hear him groan or growl. Dropping her hand dangerously low, she twirled her thumb across the tip of his throbbing erection. His head bowed over her in a delighted sigh.

She removed her hand, quickly growing impatient, and coiled her arms around his neck, pressing their naked bodies together. They choked a gasp in unison as her wetness dripped on to him. She was ready for this, she had no doubt.

"Wait, wait," Klaus interrupted, blinking as if he hadn't opened his eyes in years. "Protection."

Caroline smiled up at him, at his worried expression, and lifted herself up to kiss his lips slowly. "On the pill and I finished ovulating last week. We're good." Besides, she didn't want the barrier between them. However stupid and flawed her logic was.

Con: It's so flawed.

Pro: Shut the fuck up.

"How do you know that?" He asked, genuinely curious. He had a naked girl underneath him and he was asking how she knew she's finished ovulating.

"I. . ." Caroline started, a blush finally (finally!) making its way to her cheeks, ". . .I just do."

He didn't say anything.

Instead, he kissed her urgently, the lights in the room blacking in comparison to how Klaus and Caroline glowed; like they were the sun and the moon.

It became desperate and frenzied when Klaus situated himself at Caroline's slick entrance, his eyes open and her eyes open, waiting and ready and scared. He nudged her legs apart, lifting a knee, and, with another nod from Caroline, pushed in carefully, like she'd break with him inside of her.

She almost grimaced, her body requiring time to adjust to the invasion. She sucked in a breath, a confused feeling of twisted pain that definitely felt all the wrong kinds of right spreading through her veins.

The moment he filled her entirely, when her heat enveloped him wholly, she felt a piece of herself break off into him. A shard of her soul was now his for the taking.

And he took it. He took it by inclining his head into the crevice between her jaw and shoulder, by whispering nonsense in her ear, by nipping at every piece of skin his teeth and lips could find.

Quickly, Caroline realised it wasn't sex—not really. Caroline had taken part in sex before and this, what she was doing with Klaus, was not sex. It was more. Much more than she could even fathom. It was like every nerve ending fizzled with him and the noises he made, sparking alive whenever he'd push deeper.

She clawed at his back as he picked up his pace.

"Oh, God," she moaned into his hair when he dipped a finger to her clit, rubbing in languid circles, teasing her. "Klaus."

He smiled into her neck.

Slippery sounds radiated between them.

Bonnie constantly told Caroline the best way to get over a man is to get under another. But Bonnie suffered all the time. She never wore a happy smile. A Gilbert stole her brightness.

Caroline didn't want that, she wanted _this_. Gasping fervour and butterfly-light kisses that felt more like an unbreakable seal than a meeting of lips.

Tingling fanned out on her skin as he went faster, his fingers lifting to dance on her cheeks, smoothing away the sweat that had beaded through her pores.

If she didn't know any better, she'd have already convinced herself that this was lovemaking—that silly thing that existed in romance novels and the occasional vampire book.

But she did know better, and calling it _that _would only lead to more pain, so she forgot all about what it was, what they were doing, and focused solely on the way Klaus moved above her, looking down at her like she was an angel among demons.

There was an almost tortured vulnerability in his movements, one Caroline wanted to capture and hold. He looked so torn—he knew she was leaving when the morning came, but here he was, baring his soul for her.

The sounds they made were almost embarrassing, but they were too high, too wet with want, to really care.

It felt too good to care.

She was doing it—she was devouring him. And ruining him. And destroying him. But he was doing all the same to her.

Pulling almost all the way out and plunging back in, Klaus hit something inside of her that made her cry out and dig her nails deeper into his smooth back. He was everywhere; in her, on her, with her. They were one, they were connected. It was zealous and rough and jagged, but sweetly overwhelming. Satisfying.

Caroline's body didn't know what to do with all the emotions pouring through her. It threatened to give up on her several times, especially when Klaus would growl and tear his teeth into her lips or her neck or her shoulder. She'd have bite marks for days.

True bite marks—his marks. Because that's what he was doing to her, he was marking her—making her his. Choice eluded her; she'd be required to leave this room, this space where everything was right in the world, and go home with _him _written all over her.

And she loved it. It made her feel raw and cared for and appreciated. Like she'd finally done something right.

It was new and scary, but it was still Caroline. She hadn't lost herself along the way or become some shiny new 2.0 version of herself. She was _her_, just in a different light. A harsh light that didn't look like it'd ever burn out.

And she had no doubt it had to do with the man pulsing over her.

The apex between her thighs, where Klaus disappeared and reappeared as he continued to kiss her lips with smiles and laughter, ached. The tension inside her grew and grew as he moved quicker and quicker, drawing out sighs and moans, until the world went a little softer around the edges and her body convulsed as her orgasm hit.

It was like a sucker punch to the gut.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and called out a string of obscenities, but Klaus kept moving in search for his own end, his hands slipping down her sides and gripping her waist in uncontrollable need.

Nails slipped under her skin, enthralling her and blowing her dead mind awake.

His lips found hers mindlessly and she sucked on his mouth, his breath, until something gave and she felt him shiver above her, his arms shaking where they held him up upright.

Klaus went rigid and flopped on top of her, but she barely felt any extra weight. His head hit her chest painfully, but he refused to separate them, his soul still stuck inside of her.

They smelled like bourbon and gin, like old books and new books, like sex-induced sweat and the start of something new.

Caroline wanted to bottle up the scent and spray herself with it daily, remind herself and those around her that she'd had mind-blowing sex-that-didn't-feel-like-just-sex with a stranger-who-didn't-feel-like-a-stranger.

When Klaus did pick himself off of her, his breaths still coming out in laboured pants, she immediately felt the loss.

A cold air washed over the room and the blaring light dimmed to ash.

Caroline watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Klaus picked up his forgotten shirt and tossed it to her, a happy smirk splitting his face.

"Put it on," he commanded lightly, ruffling his curls. They stuck up with sweat and Caroline stood, her legs incredibly wobbly, so she could press them down. His eyes closed as she scrubbed his scalp with careful threads.

"Why?" She asked, clutching his top.

"Because," he rasped, moving his naked body closer to hers, "if you don't, I'll want to eat you in your sleep."

Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Who says I'm staying the night?"

"It's the least you can do for the amount of scratches on my back." He turned around and Caroline saw a mass of zigzagged red lines already starting to heal.

"Does it hurt?" She winced, smoothing one of the cuts.

"Deliciously."

Caroline ran her hand across all the marks and eventually couldn't refuse the urge to kiss every mark on his incredibly sexy back. He tensed when her torn, swollen lips met his skin, but he relaxed soon enough as Caroline kissed the pain away.

"That feels nice," he exhaled, twining Caroline's arms around his belly and clinging to her dainty fingers.

Smiling against his lacerated back, Caroline squeezed his body.

They stood in silence, both stripped clean, still finding a way to stay joined. Her heart beat against him, her breasts squished and palpitating, and she heard him breathing, felt his own heart give him life.

Eventually it got too difficult to stand.

They dressed, Caroline in Klaus' shirt and Klaus in his boxer-briefs, and climbed in his bed.

When Klaus opened his arms with a fascinated smile, Caroline didn't know what he was asking her to do. He crawled to her and pulled her on his chest, her head resting over his ribcage.

"I've never done this," she said.

Klaus looked down at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

"Cuddled?"

"Yeah," she whispered to his skin.

"Huh. Never?"

Klaus put his chin on her hair, his hand tracing random lines on her thigh.

"Never," she admitted.

"Your ex-boyfriends sucked," he insisted and Caroline laughed, nodding her head.

"That they did." She shivered as he continued his work on her leg.

Silence. It creaked like old wood.

"You have scars," she noticed, a finger stationed on his tummy where thin white lines marred perfection

He laughed breathlessly. "You have some as well, love."

_He called me love. I think I'm dead. _"Well, yeah, but these look off."

She couldn't see him, but she knew he'd raised an entire side of his face in amusement. "How can scars look off?"

Caroline shook her curls. "I don't know. I have ones from things like falling off a bike and having some girl tear at my arm during a cheerleading competition. Yours don't look like that."

His ribs expanded and she stopped outlining the white marks.

"You were a cheerleader?" He asked finally, whooshing his breath out.

"Not the point," she exclaimed, slapping his pec.

"Violence is never the answer, Caroline," he scolded.

"Neither is avoidance," she mocked.

"Ugh, fine," he relented, moving his hand to her hair and stringing out the ever-present knots. Caroline waited patiently for him to speak. "My father was not a happy man. I was his outlet."

Without meaning to, Caroline gasped. She held a hand over her mouth as disgust ran inside her, poisoning her blood supply.

"Your dad?"

"Sort of. I was a bastard child," he added with an eerie calm.

"That's sick." Her voice rose considerably and Klaus held her down. Did he know she was two seconds away from imploding?

"It was years ago. He's dead now."

"Doesn't make it okay," she mumbled, her entire self teeming with revulsion.

Klaus laughed. He always laughed. "I'm not okay with it, I just don't see the point in worrying about it anymore. It was hell when it happened, but it's long since been over."

"You've got so many siblings. Did they get beat on too?" She felt strangely protective of the man lying beneath her, and the idea that he was the only one forced to suffer the wrath of an angry man made her even more sick.

"Once or twice. I was a bit of a show off, though. Always defying him and such, just to see how much of a rise I could get out of him."

"Are you one of those who thinks it was your fault?"

"Me? No," he said, very sure of himself. "He was the bastard, not me. My brothers and I had a party when he died."

"That's. . ." the right word escaped her, her thought vanishing.

"Morbid?" Klaus offered sarcastically.

"Cleansing," she decided. "Tell me more about these brothers of yours."

"You saw them all at the pub."

"Okay, yeah, but tell me _about _them."

Klaus lifted his head and sighed, "fine. But if you end up falling in love with one of them, that's not my problem."

"They're that great, huh?" Caroline giggled.

"Pfft, not nearly as great as me. Especially in bed," he scoffed.

"I'll have to find that out for myself then," Caroline cooed seductively.

"Never mind," he interrupted, "I'm not saying anything."

"Oh, just tell me. Stop being such a baby."

"You asked for it," he warned, tickling her neck. She scrunched her shoulders and waited for him to start.

Caroline learned all about the Mikaelson clan. There was Finn, Elijah, Kol, Henrick, and Rebekah. Finn was the eldest and had a wife and child. Elijah was helplessly in love with some chick who constantly broke his heart and his bank account. Kol, apparently, was a hopeless romantic who shielded his true desires with sarcasm and disgusting pick up lines. Rebekah was young and foolish and searching for something more. Henrick, the baby, constantly felt left out, but always looked up to his elder siblings.

His mother had died giving birth to Henrick, leaving his father in charge of them all. Caroline had never thought it wise to speak ill of the dead, but she couldn't stop the inkling of hatred she felt toward _both _his parents.

They all lived in this apartment complex, which weirded Caroline out only a little. The family of six had picked up their things after their father died and (because of the amount of money left to everyone excluding Klaus) were able to come to America. NOLA had called to them and when they came across a nearly barren bookshop, they bought it and refurbished it. Klaus told her that he and his siblings were surprised when the shop was so well received. Caroline told him he was stupid for being surprised.

After a while, Klaus' voice got gruff and Caroline's eyelids got heavy. His words whispered her to sleep and, with the comforting warmth of his arms protecting her, Caroline drifted off, her dreams full of white picket fences.

..1..

Caroline woke up first.

Con: Good. We need to get out of here.

Klaus and her had separated in the night, the heat from New Orleans proving too much to keep the young lovers together. She tried not to read too much into it.

Con: Makes it easier to escape without him noticing.

She was going to walk out of here shamefully, but not really shamefully because last night she had the best sex of her life. And not just because he was good (_okay, he was mind-blowing_), but because it felt real and exciting and intense beyond all reason.

Looking at him now, asleep and soundless, she fought hard with the side of her that wanted to curl with him again and never leave. He was so innocent in sleep, still with a cheerful smile playing at his lips.

Would he miss her? Would he wander around the apartment to see if she'd simply gotten up to make coffee or breakfast?

_Jokes on you, sucker. I don't cook breakfast. Or make coffee. It always ends up tasting like feet. _

Caroline slid off the bed quietly, her feet hitting the wooden floor with a hushed thump.

She looked around, trying to convince herself that this was the right thing to do.

Con: It's the right thing to do.

Pro: It's not really.

Con: But you'll do it anyway. Because you run from feelings, Caroline. It's just who you are. You're not Bonnie or Elena, you're you.

Seeing his apartment in the morning light made her smile. He had bookshelves everywhere. It was like his own personal bookshop. She recognised most (_Crime and Punishment; Walden._), but several, ones caked in dust and suffering from spinal injury, Caroline met with blank stares.

The colours of his flat were dark and woodsy, all deep purples and greens. Caroline felt like she was back in Mystic Falls, running through the forest, as she escaped out his bedroom with her things tumbling in her arms.

She dressed fast, yanking off Klaus' shirt, giving it one final sniff, and slamming her clothes over her head. Folding the shirt neatly, she placed it on the wooden coffee table.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a stack of sticky notes. They were yellow, like the one he'd written his number on.

Pro: Do it.

She did it—she walked over and found a red pen and wrote a note.

_I have to leave before the world catches up. Thank you for a wonderful night._

_Caroline, xoxo_

Then she kissed it.

And then she left.

* * *

_Break involuntary ties, a secret so the spies could never find us out._

_Stay for as long as you have time,_

_so the mess that we'll become leaves something to talk about._

* * *

**A/N 2: No, Caroline! Why'd you have to leave? **

**So, what did you all think? I'd love to hear feedback for future reference. Again, took me three different tries to get this right and I might not have succeeded. If I didn't, I'm really sorry. But hey, if you liked it, then that's spectacular. **

**I know you're probably thinking 'who can have the greatest sex of their life in the missionary position?' and my answer would be: doesn't matter about positions - they were fighting for connection, not necessarily pleasure. **

**What'll happen next. . . ?**

**And I seriously, seriously, seriously want you to go and listen to "Casual Affair." Just. . .just do it. **

**You're all fantastic people. Thanks ever so much for reading and reviewing and all that jazz. It makes me so happy. **

**Until next time,**

**-LoveIsATemple **


	4. But it's Not Enough

**A/N 1: ****I know this is a little late, but you know how exams are. They like to eat you alive. But hey, I'm back in America for the time being and will get a bit more time to write. I think. . . Don't hold me to that.**

**Who else read the final real chapter of The Only Hope for Me is You the minute it entered your inbox this morning? Because I got the email at 6:30 a.m. Virginia time and I read it and read it and read it.**

**Speaking of Virginia, I'm home for "spring" break, but apparently no one told Virginia this. I knew there'd been loads of snow here this winter, but England had a fairly mild winter save for the buckets of rain washing away parts of the country. But let me say that nothing prepared me for getting eight inches in mid-March. So, yeah. Go NOVA! You can go suck yourself.**

**Also, I'd like to just say thank you. The reception for the last chapter (from those who reviewed) was good overall. And that makes me feel happy :) 70 followers and counting! That's crazy and totally flattering.**

**I hope you enjoy this and please don't hesitate to tell me what you thought. (Provided it's not too mean. My delicate heart is jet lagged and not in the mood to be broken.)**

**All mistakes are mine. I don't have a Beta and I'm sure it shows. **

* * *

_"Climbing out the backdoor, didn't leave a mark._

_No one knows it's you, Miss Jackson._

_Found another victim,_

_But no one's gonna find Miss Jackson."_

_Miss Jackson | Panic! at the Disco_

* * *

**Chapter 4: But it's Not Enough**

Klaus groaned again, letting his head drop to his desk in disgruntled agony. Papers littered the wooden structure and he gripped tight to his favourite blue pen.

Numbers never confused him. In fact, math was his second best subject in school behind English. However, as he stared at the various documents through slitted eyes that detailed the shop's income last month. . .he couldn't think of anything.

None of it made sense.

Nothing had made any sense for over a week now. His head was somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't quite reach. Somewhere with a blonde that blew away in such a manner he wasn't sure she even existed.

His insecurities were beginning to get the better of him and several times since that fateful morning, when he awoke to nothing but a folded t-shirt, he'd contemplated asking his various siblings if they'd truly seen him with anyone at the pub last Friday.

A connection like that wasn't born every day. It didn't simply throw itself at you and then whisk itself off into the sunrise. Little bits of his brain wondered if perhaps she was just that type of girl; the type that slept with a moderately attractive British man on her last night in places and then left without a word before they awoke.

Cruel, that's what it was. She'd played him like a fool—and he felt foolish, but he caught himself staring at his phone more often than not, just itching to call her. But she would have said something to him if she'd wanted him to phone; woken him and told him. Instead, she abandoned him.

He refused to admit how painful it felt to be left in bed. He used to do it to women during his twenties, until he got his head screwed on straight. Nothing could have prepared him for the gutting agony (_Getting a bit over dramatic, Niklaus. Stop now, please.) _of having the tables turned.

Caroline: the blonde beauty, the one who made him _feel _for the first time in a long time. The girl from Mystic Falls of all places. And now she was gone. Fled without so much as a kiss.

He let her get away.

Swiping his hands through his rough curls, Klaus strained his eyes and glared at the paperwork before him. He'd need to finish it soon. Elijah was bound to be on his case if he didn't turn it in before the day was through and he didn't want to deal with an angry older brother today of all days.

All of his family had been giving him strange looks since last Friday. Even good ol' Henrick. It unnerved him slightly that each one of his siblings could tell something was up, but he wasn't about to indulge them. None of them needed to know he'd hooked up with a girl only to have her leave him in the morning.

"Nik," a voice hissed from his doorway.

He looked up and saw Rebekah staring at him with a frown perfectly in place. Her blonde hair was spilling out of its side braid and she looked as though someone had just given her a thorough yelling at.

Probably another unhappy customer if he knew his sister at all.

Smiling gently, he raised his eyebrows humorously waiting for her to speak, glad to forget his other blonde worries for a moment.

"I do have work to get done, Bekah. Speak now or forever hold your peace," he told her jokingly when she still hadn't said anything.

Huffing and puffing, Rebekah stepped further into the office and slammed the door shut behind her. Someone had definitely pissed her off.

She moved to sit down in one of the chairs in front of his desk and promptly lifted her feet to the wooden surface, crossing her legs at the ankles and ignoring Klaus's annoyed grimace at the prospect of having his sister's feet on his desk.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked bluntly.

Klaus smiled wide, enjoying the way it peeved his younger sister.

Her eyes narrowed in on him.

"I'm serious," she groaned, setting her neck on the back of her chair before staring him down again. He continued grinning. "You've been moping for an entire week. It's starting to wear me down."

The dirty-blonde haired man sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

So he was the cause of his sister's distress?

"Is it the blonde?"

Klaus choked on his tongue at her words, unsure at first what she meant.

"The blonde?" He questioned through a tight windpipe.

Rebekah raised her hands in vexation and shot him a dirty look of doubt.

"The blonde. From the pub," she clarified. He refused to speak. Rebekah's eyes widened and she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You slept with her didn't you. You did! And then she left, right? God, Nik, you're so stupid. And since when do you even like blondes? Nik, you were doing so well. You haven't had a one night stand since Tati—"

Klaus held up a hand in such an abrupt way that Rebekah immediately stopped blabbering.

"Don't say her name," he seethed with as much calm as he could muster.

"You were the one who slept with her," she reminded him angrily.

"And I've been living with that horrible decision for years," Klaus mumbled regretfully, remembering with a cringe of the time he drunkenly slept with his brother's girlfriend.

She had definitely come on to him, though. He stood by that for years and it was the only piece of information that kept Elijah from repeatedly stabbing him. It was a wonder they'd ever made up, but after the incident with Tatia boiled down, Elijah realised that family mattered more than the whore of a girl he'd picked up.

Rebekah took a deep breath and stood up, clambering over the bin next to his desk until she was beside him. Her hand dug into his shoulder and he winced away, but she held on and gripped him tighter.

"Look, I saw you kissing her. You looked. . .very into it. I haven't seen you kiss a woman in public for years. What was it about her that made you snap?"

She sounded genuinely concerned. Her death grip on his shoulder softened as she started massaging the aching muscles of his neck.

"Sister," he sighed, turning his head to get a look at her, "if I knew that, you'd be the first I'd tell."

Bekah scoffed in his ear, the noise banging against his eardrum with annoying force. He heard a faint ringing somewhere in his head that no doubt had to do with her high pitched squeal of a laugh.

"Thanks for that, but I think our brothers would be a little hurt that you didn't think of them first."

"You know I trust you over them any day," he said confidently.

While growing up had never been easy and he and his siblings stuck like glue, Bekah and him were always closest. She'd seen him as more of a friend than a disgusting older brother and often divulged her secrets in him. At first he humoured her, but after some time his mouth started loosening up to her as well.

If only she'd listen to him regarding her male "friends."

"I know, I know," she conceded, ceasing her massage. "Hey, you could probably just go home. Listen to some shit record and forget about this blonde chick. If she left, she's not worth the brooding you seem so keen on lately."

Klaus looked at his sister, readily wanting to come to Caroline's defence despite the small fact that part of Bekah's statement was true. She had left him. But she'd felt it too, their connection. He saw it clear as day every time she brought her doe eyes up to meet his.

"You can work from home, too. 'Lijey will have your head if this paperwork isn't done by this evening," she added with a popped smile.

Klaus chuckled at Rebekah's use of their older brother's childhood nickname, but nodded his head all the same. Sometimes Bekah did have good ideas, even if they were few and far between.

"You know what? I'll do just that. Minus the shit record. I'm in the mood for some Bowie," he decided, standing up and gathering his work.

He haphazardly stuffed the pages in his brown leather messenger bag and shooed Bekah away with his spare hand.

"A thank you would suffice, brother," she teased as she scampered off, her voice dying as she disappeared out his door like a wisp of air.

"Thanks," he called, knowing she'd hear him.

He smiled to himself as he collected all his things. His old laptop beeped in frustration as he tried to close everything quickly and put it away. Patience was a virtue Niklaus Mikaelson did not own and he gave up trying to be kind to his laptop and shut it with annoyed force, carefully sliding it in its place.

Hopping his way out of his office, he passed Kol flirting with a redheaded customer deep in the romance portion of the store. He saluted his younger brother warningly and watched Kol's face blacken with some form of embarrassment. He was surprised Kol didn't decide to flip him off.

Elijah was aiding an older man by the help desk when he approached. Klaus waited behind the senior citizen for his turn and sighed in relief when the man, who had wanted to know where the erotica was kept, walked away.

"What brings you here today, Niklaus?" Elijah asked with a polite smile. His navy blue tailored suit looked a little more unkempt than usual and he wondered if perhaps today had been a bad day for him.

Too bad. He was the one who decided they would switch out shifts at the help desk. Today just happened to be his day.

"I'm gonna head back to the apartment and finish up there. Just wanted to let you know," Klaus told him, tapping his fingers on the desk.

Elijah nodded his head curiously.

"Why?"

Klaus grinned at his brother's resistance. Finn held the title of the oldest, but Elijah took over the responsibilities almost entirely when Finn decided marriage and children were his strong suit.

"Because it's too stuffy in here, brother. I want a change of scenery."

Watching his brother think would never cease to amaze him. Elijah would rub a hand down his face, muss his hair, fix it straight away, and then pull at his lips.

He saw the moment Elijah agreed when his older brother let go of his oddly shaped mouth.

"Fine," he mumbled halfheartedly. "But I'll knock at your door at eleven tonight and I expect the work done, okay?"

There was a warning to his words Klaus did not miss.

"Of course, Elijah. Of course," Klaus said as he started walking away.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that stunning blonde we saw you with at the bar last week, would it?" Elijah asked, causing Klaus to immediately turn back.

He kinked an eyebrow, urging his brother to continue.

Elijah smiled, a rare treat. Klaus wanted to snap a picture to show his family proof that their brother had a soul after all.

"You were extremely enamoured with her. And I suspect she's no longer in New Orleans judging by the fact that we have not seen her since that night. Getting a taste of your own medicine, huh, Niklaus?" Elijah poked with a small grin.

Klaus took a deep breath and returned the gesture, very unsure how his brother figured it out. "How'd you guess?"

"I know you. You took her home, made love to her, and then you two parted ways. But you obviously didn't want such a thing to happen."

Nik winced at the words "made love," but tried to cover it up by spreading his smile.

"She told me she was leaving the next morning. It was to be expected, I assure you."

Elijah didn't look convinced. "Have you tried calling her?"

Shaking his head, Klaus stuck his hands in his pockets and tiptoed to the desk again, his messenger bag flapping at his hip.

"She probably doesn't want to hear from me," he whispered with a tilt of his chin.

"How do you know that?"

"She didn't say anything."

"Oh, Niklaus," Elijah reprimanded loudly. He blinked and lowered his voice, "she's a woman. She's not going to tell you she wants you to call. You have to do the honours."

"Since when did you become the expert in dating?" He questioned, approaching his defensive side.

Elijah chuckled. "I've always been smarter than you when it comes to women. You've just never listened before."

"Shouldn't I be going to Finn? He is the married one after all."

"I took the most women's studies courses in uni. I know what I'm talking about," Elijah justified, earning a light snicker from Klaus.

"That is true isn't it?" Klaus asked rhetorically.

"Exactly. Trust the older brother, Niklaus. Call her."

"What if I don't want to?"

Elijah paused. "You don't want to?"

"Well, I don't know," Klaus tried, attempting to convince himself that no, he did not want to call Caroline Forbes, Mystic Falls native.

"You want to call her," Elijah concluded without break. He looked over Klaus's shoulder, probably noticing some customer in need of help.

"What would I say?" He asked desperately, not liking the own tone of his voice.

"Anything," Elijah said, moving from behind the counter.

"Thanks," Nik mumbled sarcastically.

"Just go home, Niklaus. Consume some alcohol. Loosen yourself up."

"Loose lips sink ships, brother," Klaus reminded him, although that idea didn't sound half bad.

"Go home," he repeated, shoving Klaus lightly.

Klaus nodded, turning away and readying himself for the walk home.

Now he could leave, get work done, and try to erase the sex-filled images of a particular blonde from his overworked mind. Forget what Elijah said. He didn't need to call her. That would appear desperate and clingy.

He was not desperate and clingy.

..1..

"Finally!" Klaus exclaimed, throwing his pen across the room in elation.

All the paperwork was done and it only took one bottle of beer and five Bowie records. The time on his laptop told him he had a good thirty minutes of relaxation before Elijah came pounding at his door.

The work took him longer than expected. Five hours of staring mindlessly into space, forced to remember what it felt like to have a soft blonde climbing all over him, submitting to him, coming for him.

Klaus leapt from his chair and walked to where his pen landed near the small television set he acquired years ago but never turned on. It gathered dust unlike his books.

As he knelt down to retrieve his lucky blue pen, he noticed an uncapped red sharpie next to a stack of sticky notes. He never used red pens, never. Especially not permanent ones. They looked too much like blood and he was a bit squeamish when it came to the stuff.

His eyes wandered around a bit, trying to figure out who would've used it, until they landed on the pad of sticky notes.

Heart beating fast, sweat squeezing out of pores, blinking rapidly, losing the ability to breathe.

Klaus felt the oncoming of a panic attack and couldn't really figure out why.

Well, he could.

It was a note for him. From her. From his blonde. From Caroline.

_I have to leave before the world catches up. Thanks for a wonderful night._

_Caroline, xoxo._

Her smudged lipstick smeared the corner in the shape of her decadent mouth.

How had he not seen this before? How had he been so stupid! She'd left him a note! A fucking note that he hadn't noticed.

He needed to call her.

Klaus stood up shakily and reached into his back pocket for his phone. Quickly, he found the recent phone calls and identified her number.

No pause, no thinking.

He pressed the "CALL" button and waited.

* * *

Somewhere underneath her abnormally cluttered desk her phone was ringing.

No, it wasn't ringing—it was screaming.

She shoved her things aside until she located the blinking object and took no notice of the random pieces of paper falling to the floor.

Staring at the phone, she realised she didn't recognise the number. But a bunch of people had been calling her lately. They were getting closer and closer to publishing their first edition of the town's newspaper and she didn't have time to care about who it was.

She'd worry later if it turned out to be a serial killer.

"Yes, hello?" She answered, not entirely sure why it came out as a question. "Sorry for not picking up right away. It's kind of busy around here."

"Caroline?"

She nearly dropped her phone.

"Yes?" She asked shakily.

This wasn't happening. He wasn't calling her. No. It'd been a week and there'd been nothing but silence. There was no way it was him.

"Ah, just checking. I got your note. Sorry it's a bit late," Klaus murmured, clearly enjoying the breathless wheezes she was giving him through the receiver.

It was him. She may have only heard that voice for a day, but it was permanently ingrained in her mind.

"Klaus."

"In the flesh," he chuckled. "Except not really."

Caroline laughed despite herself and shivered away the burning ache in her belly.

"Why are you calling me?" She asked, wondering momentarily if the question sounded too harsh.

To be honest, she'd been waiting for him to call since that morning. Half of her expected a missed call or two when she landed at Dullas and the other half expected one when she got home a few hours later.

But there was nothing. And days later there was still nothing.

She'd decided when she woke up that morning she was done waiting. Bonnie had consoled her slightly, confused as to why she seemed so upset over a one-night stand gone slightly awry, but then Bonnie did it too often to truly understand.

"I just thought I'd say hello," he answered coolly. She hated him. "Hello," he added after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

Pro: You don't hate him, clearly.

Con: But you should. He didn't call right away.

Pro: He's calling now. Doesn't that mean something?

Con: It means nothing.

"A week after the fact?" Caroline was fully aware how annoyed she sounded and only hoped he could hear it too.

He sighed in her ear and she almost thought she could smell him. "About that. I thought you wouldn't want me to call. But then I was talking to my brother and he said to just do it. And then I found the sticky note. So I thought 'why the fuck not?'."

"Why the fuck not?" Caroline parroted with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, yes. Are you not happy to hear from me?"

Caroline ignored how afraid he sounded and groaned to herself.

"I would've been happier to hear from you seven fucking days ago. I'm really busy right now."

"I know, I know. The paper. But, I just thought I'd give it a try."

Even from all the way in Virginia, Caroline saw the smirk pulling half his face up.

"Give what a try?"

"You."

He spoke clearly and defiantly, and Caroline felt the word sliver down into her soul.

She stood up and started picking up papers while holding her phone between her ear and shoulder. Cleaning would help clear her mind. It would help her put thoughts together.

"What do you mean 'you'?" Caroline inquired skeptically.

Klaus laughed, the noise melting Caroline's bones.

"I mean," he began through his giggle fit, "I was hoping to try something with you. That extends our evening of wonderfulness."

"What does that mean?"

"All these questions, Caroline."

Oh, the way he said her name. Creepily, she'd missed it.

"All these mysterious statements, Klaus," she mocked in a botched British accent.

"Is that what I sound like to you?"

Caroline felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment.

"Uh," she stuttered. "No. No. Your accent's much sexier than that."

Con: You're an idiot.

Slapping a hand over her eyes, Caroline straightened up. She placed the fallen papers in a neat pile on her desk and grabbed at the phone again, clutching it to her ear.

"Sexy. I like it," he poked.

"Sorry."

"Don't ever apologise for calling a man's accent sexy, Caroline. I take the compliment fully," he assured her.

Why was he torturing her? She'd just given up hope and now he was teasing her.

"What did you mean? Before. About trying something," she prodded, desperately wishing this conversation were either happening face to face or not at all.

There was a break in talking where all that could be heard were breaths. Inhale, exhale.

Caroline's warm body ached for his touch again and she wondered if he ached for her.

But that was a stupid and traitorous thing to wonder, so she stopped.

"What did I mean," he mused to himself. She imagined him: surrounded by books, breathing in their intoxicating scent while trying to come up with some clever retort. "I meant that I wish you didn't live in Virginia."

Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach.

"Well, tough," she breathed, confused and angry.

What was he saying? That he wanted her again?

"Yes, tough. It is tough. God, it's been eating at me this entire week," he admitted with a groan.

Caroline smiled, unsure if it was because of the pain in his voice or the fact that she felt the same way.

"Yeah, me too," she sympathised. "I don't do the whole one-night thing. Actually, isn't this phone call a violation of a one-night stand?"

Bonnie never got phone calls from her beaus. And she definitely never called them.

"Is it? I don't remember," he joked. She didn't laugh. "Sorry," he coughed. "I—probably. But—God, how can I miss you?" He whined, not one ounce of humour in his voice.

She stopped short, plopping down in her chair with a loud thump.

"You miss me? Isn't that another rule broken?" She asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn't work too well. She missed him too, and that tore her soul to pieces.

She shouldn't miss him. She'd told herself just one night. He was hers for just one night. And then he snaked his way around her, inside of her. A week had gone by and she hadn't stopped thinking about him once. Not even during final preparations for her own fucking newspaper.

"Who cares? Why can't we be the exception?" He bounced back.

She bit her lip. "Are you pulling my tail? Is this something you do?"

"What?"

"Call your one-nighters and joke with them about 'being the exception'?" She bemoaned, running a scared hand through her hair. Emotions were brewing inside of her like a tornado, ripping her mind apart. She didn't know what to think or feel.

"That sounds like a cruel joke," he stated. "But no. I don't do one-night stands, either. This is new territory."

"Feelings?" She asked, half joking, half not.

"Blondes, actually."

"You've never liked blondes before? I feel special," she giggled, glad to be away from the too-soon heaviness of the previous topic.

"Mm, I always thought I had a thing for brunettes. And then this really attractive blonde came into the shop one day. Although it may have been her vampire fetish that called me to her."

Caroline sat up straight. "I don't have a vampire fetish!"

"Who said I was talking about you?"

He was laughing and she was joining in, feeling weirdly comfortable even though she barely knew this guy.

"I say you're talking about me."

"How presumptuous," he teased, his feathery-light accent thrilling her with every word.

"You're the one with the vampire fetish, though. I still have bite marks."

Her face immediately went scarlet at the admission, but her free hand still absently traced the teeth-like imprints on her right breast.

"Your skin was too hard to resist, Caroline."

Con: Should we be offended? He sounds very full of himself here.

Pro: Shut up and let the moment happen.

"I think I'm a sadomasochist," Caroline announced without thinking, cupping a hand over her mouth and moaning. "And I also think I'll be the first person to die of embarrassment."

Though it was muffled, she knew Klaus was laughing at her.

"Ah, very interesting," he remarked, probably stroking a giant hand over his gorgeously stubbled chin.

She flinched, her body tightening into a coil. "Aha, yeah. I really do have to go jump of a bridge now, though."

"That seems a bit over dramatic. We all have our weird sex fantasies."

"Can we not?" Caroline said. "Can we not keep on talking about the fact that we had sex? It's weirding me out."

Klaus chuckled somewhere in New Orleans and Caroline fought the urge to hang up the phone.

"What do you want to talk about then?" He asked finally.

"You."

"Me?"

"You heard me," she said sternly. "Tell me something random about yourself."

There was thinking going on the other line. Air crackled through the phone, filling Caroline with an odd sense of ease.

"I paint," he informed her casually, the lilt of his voice tipping her overboard.

Pro: Could he get any hotter.

Con: He might not paint well.

"Landscapes?" She asked, ignoring the voices in her head.

"And people. Sometimes people model for me."

A thick, jealous glare radiated on Caroline's face. Did they model naked?

"Did you paint me?" She asked instead, cringing inwardly at the boldness of her question.

"Perhaps," he murmured coyly.

Caroline's chest flamed and her core throbbed.

He had the right question before. She missed him and it made absolutely no sense.

Just as she was about to say something stupid like 'I'd like to see those pictures some day,' a distant knock echoed through her head. She looked up at her door, but knew it wasn't meant for her.

"Caroline, I hate to cut this short, but my brother is here," he said, plainly irritated.

"Which one?" She asked, trying to keep him talking.

"The one that I'd be stupid to ignore for much longer."

He sounded sad that he had to go.

"Call me tomorrow," she demanded. "I . . . I mean, please. I'd like to continue this conversation after I've had more sleep."

"Tomorrow?" He asked almost sheepishly, like he hadn't planned for this to go well.

Caroline nodded despite the small fact that he couldn't see her. "Uh, yeah. Tomorrow. 8:00 your time? I should be home by then."

"My time?"

There was more frustrated knocking, but she didn't hear Klaus moving to get the door.

"There's an hour time difference between New Orleans and Mystic Falls. It's midnight here, eleven there. You know; central, pacific, eastern. All these different time zones that America has?"

He'd been living in Louisiana for years, how had he not figured this out yet?

"Shit, I'm sorry it's so late. I forgot about the time difference."

"No sweat, I'm still at the office. I should head home, though. And you should open the door before it pops off its hinges," she said lightly, wanting nothing more than to be the person outside his apartment.

Not having sex for a year and then somehow having the best sex ever with a practical stranger was really beginning to mess with her head.

"Right, right. Tomorrow, then, Caroline. I look forward to it," he cooed in the utmost sexy way.

"Tomorrow," she agreed. And then added, "I don't really know how to say goodbye."

"Then don't say goodbye. Say goodnight."

"How philosophical," she mocked playfully, her insides stirring up an inferno. "Goodnight, Klaus. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Caroline," he whispered, his voice barely registering. "Tomorrow."

* * *

_"Out the back door,_

_Goddamn,_

_But I love her anyway"_

* * *

**A/N 2: ****So, what did ya think? I liked it, but I'm almost definitely biased. Please review if you feel up to it. It makes my world go round.**

**Just to reiterate, we all need happiness for these guys. The writers of both shows are slowly ruining them. But hey, you can't have the line, "I intend to be your last, however long it takes" and just expect all the Klaroliners to die off. It does not work like that. And I pray you'll all join me in sticking through this tough period. We are a united front and I've never been so happy to be a part of a fandom such as this one. I will go down with this ship, I assure you.**

**What a great segue, huh? Because I've been writing a new fic for these guys and I wanted to see if you'd be interested in reading it. I have a prequel written and I'll definitely publish that, but if it's not well received or if you guys end up not wanting more, it can stand alone as a one-shot. This is all shameless self promotion, but the story revolves around Caroline and Klaus as actors. I know, I know, "been there, done that," but I started writing mine before I ever stepped foot onto Klaroline fan-fiction soil, so I'd like to think it still holds originality. I'll probably add a little snippet at the end of next chapter so you have time to form an opinion. **

**But regardless of all that, thank you for being the most wonderful people in the world. I have gotten so much love for the two stories I've written for Klaroline and I honestly don't know what to do with it. I know I'm fairly new to this fandom, so the support is most welcome. You're amazing and I love you all and I'm sorry this got long. I'll try to cut back my author's notes in the future.**

**Until next time,**

**-LoveIsATemple**


	5. From Your Company

**A/N 1: ****I know I said the updates would come quicker now that I was home for a while, but I forgot that coming home required actually being with the family that I hadn't seen in quite some time. Sorry for the ten day wait. I hope this chapter is all you were waiting for. **

**And a humongous (I just love that word. It's so fun to spell) thank you for those of you who've been supportive of the story. You make this so much more fun than I could ever have imagined. **

**While it snowed once more here in Virginia, it seems that spring is here to stay; it has not stopped raining for two days. Hallelujah. **

**I'm super glad everyone's enjoying this so far. Here's to Chapter 5! And please tell me what you thought when you're done!**

**Sorry if there's mistakes. It's nearly eleven thirty here and I'm tired.**

* * *

_"Cross my heart and hope to die._

_Burn my lungs and curse my eyes._

_I've lost control and I don't want it back._

_I'm going numb, I've been highjacked."_

_Nicotine | Panic! at the Disco_

* * *

**Chapter 5: From Your Company**

**The Next Day:**

Caroline sat on the sofa in her mother's home and mindlessly lifted lint off her black sweatshirt. Music sang to her in the background; an old song humming about life on mars. Distantly, she heard Bonnie ramble about her latest boy toy, a sweetheart named Atticus who was a professor at the college near town. Forefront in her mind though was the time. It was inching its way to eight o'clock and she'd been itching to talk to Klaus all day.

Bonnie's chatter regarding Atticus had taken up most of their bonding session of the day. She always had a habit of over-sharing and today was no different. Caroline endured—suffered, really—through Bonnie spilling the nauseating secrets of her charmed life behind closed doors. She learned that this Atticus Shane man enjoyed a little pain mixed with pleasure, but that thought immediately turned her face scarlet as she remembered her talk with Klaus the previous night.

"Okay," Bonnie interrupted herself. _Con: Thank God. I was getting ready to shoot myself._ "I've never seen you blush so hard. What gives?"

A warranted question, Caroline supposed. It was a rare treat to see the blonde blush so harshly.

"Nothing," she tried, but Bonnie narrowed her eyes in skepticism.

"Do you honestly expect me to believe you?" She asked.

Caroline curled away from her best friend and pouted.

"Tell me," the brunette demanded with a squeal.

She relented. "Okay, okay. Klaus called me last night."

There was a pause. Caroline watched Bonnie's face morph from curiosity to shock to excitement in two seconds flat and shielded her face when Bonnie bounced on the sofa beside her.

"No," she gasped, hitting Caroline's arm.

"Ow! That was uncalled for," Caroline reprimanded, soothing her now-red arm.

Bonnie's teeth were shining. "He really called you?"

Relenting her self-made shield, Caroline suddenly couldn't swipe the smile off her face.

"He did," she said with a small nod. "And he's supposed to call me again soon."

Bonnie released a witchy cackle and shot off the sofa, reaching out and dragging Caroline up with her. The two girls giggled for a good minute together, hopping around as David Bowie sang to them.

When they separated, they were breathless and giddy. Caroline's jewel-blue eyes glittered with awe that this was actually happening. And a sudden sadness that Klaus was all the way in Louisiana while she was stuck in Virginia with work and a mundane life.

He seemed so exotic to her—and it wasn't just the accent. His entire being emanated far away places. She could imagine traveling the world with him, letting him guide her. They could explore the deserts of North Africa and the undersea glories of Australia. Sleep on handmade hammocks in the Amazon and climb to the top of Mt. Everest with snow shoes wrapped around their feet.

But she was getting far too ahead of herself. They were a one-night stand. And just because he had called her and said he wanted to give 'her' a chance, didn't mean they were going to mean anything to each other in a weeks time.

"You have totally got yourself a boyfriend, Caroline. Oh my God!" Bonnie exclaimed, taking another moment to jump chaotically in the small living room of the Sheriff's home.

Caroline sighed and smiled at her friend's assured tone. Bonnie was never a hopeless romantic. She was always too busy looking for someone to help her get away from Jeremy Gilbert to really consider _finding _anyone else. Apparently, she was more than pleased with the prospect of Caroline gaining an admirer.

"I do not have a boyfriend. I have a guy who seems intent on phoning me. Two completely different things," she insisted, more for her own benefit than Bonnie's. She couldn't go around calling Klaus her boyfriend. He was barely an acquaintance. An acquaintance she'd slept with, but an acquaintance nonetheless.

"Suuure," Bonnie stretched with a beautiful, sad smile.

Caroline just shook her head and continued watching the clock.

* * *

Once, when his father was alive and well and unhappy as ever, Klaus decided what a wonderful thing it would be to try and sneak out of the house. There was a party going on that night at one of the abandoned underground stations. Alcohol, drugs, girls. What more incentive did he need?

He was young, barely seventeen, and ready to enjoy what life had to offer. He prepared everything, making sure there were no holes in his stellar plan. He'd climb out his window, drop to the ground, run away and be back in his bedroom before the sun even considered brimming the horizon.

Elijah told him he was stupid for considering it, so he went to Rebekah to ask if she thought it was an okay plan. She'd been too young to really understand it, but so had he. Either way, she'd told him to go for it. That was the final nail in his coffin, getting his sister's approval.

That night, their father refused to go to bed. Klaus heard him still singing off-key to some obscure band as he readied himself for escape. Him and his siblings all had separate rooms, but Mikael often enjoyed taunting Klaus the most, so he had to take extra precautions. There was already a nice formation underneath his bed sheet in the shape of a sleeping boy, and he was quite proud of his handy work.

He made it out without a hitch; no guard dog, no sirens, no screaming man yelling at him to get his fucking ass back inside this instant; no belt buckle, no ring-clad punch to the gut.

That was the evening he lost his virginity. To a stranger with a head of brown hair and a stab of needle pricks running up and down her arms. One spot was still bleeding and she was high on something, but he was horny and she was willing and he was drunk and she was easy.

After struggling to put the condom on in his hazy state, she grabbed it for him and rolled it on with ease. He almost came undone then, but luckily he was able to calm himself down before he embarrassed himself entirely. She took complete control of the situation, and ever since then he'd hated being the submissive partner during sex.

Running home on endorphins and the strange feeling that he'd been robbed, Klaus climbed back up to his bedroom, glad for once that he had plenty of brothers who helped him in the muscle gaining department. The balcony to his bedroom was spotless and beautiful so he took a step back when he reached the top to enjoy the view. It was a cloudless night and the moon shone down on the property wonderfully. Grass sprinkled in dew, flowers lilting down as they waited for the sunshine to bring them back to life. He thought that he could enjoy London if it always looked like this.

But then he'd turned around, and then he saw his father with the belt in his hand and a sinister smile curling his lip unattractively.

Since then, Klaus thought that was the stupidest thing he'd ever done—snuck out under the guardianship of darkness. But here he was, years and years later, holding his mobile phone in his hand and trying to come up with a moment from his past where he felt any more dumb.

His thoughts came up dry.

"What are you doing?"

Klaus jumped up from his sofa, unnerved by the voice streaming behind him in his own apartment. He didn't remember letting anyone inside. He turned around and saw Kol leaning against the kitchen table with a Mikaelson smirk lifting his lips.

Frowning, Klaus sat back down on the grey sofa and continued fiddling with his phone. "None of your business, little brother."

Kol laughed and came to sit by Klaus. The sofa shifted under his weight. Klaus moved a bit to get comfortable again, working himself up for the inevitable phone call he'd have to make.

"You're going to call Caroline, aren't you?" Kol asked playfully, wrapping a tight arm around Klaus' shoulder and pulling him into an awkward side hug.

Annoyed that his brother somehow figured it out, Klaus tried to brush off the insane jealousy that accompanied Kol's question. He didn't know the girl—at least not very well—and there was no point to feeling undermined by Kol. Just because his younger brother held a bit more charm (disgusting as it may be) than him, didn't mean that Caroline, the beautiful, wonderful, gracious Caroline, would rather spend time on the phone with Kol than with him.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, avoiding Kol's question as best he could and slipping his phone in his front pocket.

Kol wasn't taking it, though. Klaus saw the evil glint in his eye, the one that always meant trouble.

"You like her. Admit it," Kol teased, squeezing Klaus closer to him. Klaus tried to escape, but Kol, whose arm muscles were, regrettably, larger than Klaus', held him down. "You like her and you're going to call her and marry her and make lots of babies. Exciting."

"Get off me," Klaus mumbled lamely, unprepared for the flames that met his cheeks at Kol's words.

Kol released his grip, but seemed hellbent on torturing Klaus for as long as he could.

"Oh, Nik, we all know you fucked her. You broke your one-night stand vow, but I have the strangest feeling," he said, sprinkling his hands out and touching his index fingers to either temple on his face, "that you want to fuck her again and again and again."

"You're foul," Klaus told him, slapping a hand over the taller boy's head. Kol's face morphed in slight pain and Klaus scoffed at the childish reaction of both of them.

"You're the one considering settling down. That's foul, brother, truly."

Klaus gaped. He wasn't thinking about settling down, no. He was simply interested in a girl who just so happened to live all the way in Virginia. Who said anything about settling down?

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Kol. I'm considering no such thing," Klaus insisted, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or his brother more. But again, he'd known the girl—the woman—for two days. He's spoken to her five times. She knew nothing more about him than how many siblings he had, what he did for a living, and how much of an asshole his father was when he was alive.

There would be no settling down for him with Caroline in the foreseeable future.

Beyond that, well, that was a giant black hole full of secrets and destinies and things untouchable. He couldn't tell anyone, let alone himself, what was to happen in the future.

"You totally are," Kol declared again, nudging Klaus in the side with a sharp elbow. "I see it in your eyes," he whispered, sending the oddest shivers down the dirty blonde's back.

"My eyes?" Klaus asked in disbelief. "You've been watching too many films about witches."

Kol gasped and pointed an accusatory finger at Klaus. "Take that back. Now!"

Unable to stop himself, Klaus laughed. Everyone knew Kol had an unhealthy obsession with witches and wizards. It all started when the _Harry Potter_ series came out all those years ago. If Klaus could control the vampire section of their store, Kol could reign over anything and everything to do with witches, witchcraft, and other magical creatures.

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Klaus relented. "Okay, okay. My sincerest apologies. You have not, under any circumstances, been watching too many witchy films."

"Thank you," Kol said, nodding in agreement. "But really, what is it about this chick?"

"I know we've lived here for a long time, but _chick_, Kol? She's not a baby chicken."

"Ugh, you know what I mean. And besides, in England we call girls _birds_, so isn't it essentially the same thing?"

Kol had a point, but who was he to admit that?

"No."

Standing up and wandering over to the kitchen, Kol started to remove certain foods out of his wooden cupboards as he continued talking. "Then what is it about this female? This delicate, fragile, docile female?" He jeered as he grabbed a mixing bowl from the drying rack by the sink and started pouring what was probably too much flower.

From where he was sitting on the sofa Klaus watched Kol add white powders to the bowl without bothering to use a measuring cup and wondered silently how long it would be until his kitchen blew up.

"I mean," Kol added, reaching for the small bottle of canola oil Klaus kept in what he thought was a secret place, "she's a blonde. I've never even seen you with a blonde."

"Would you stop playing chef in my kitchen? You've got your own apartment," Klaus bemoaned when Kol hooked up the electric mixer and started mixing in the oil and some sugar with the ingredients already in the bowl.

"Only when you start talking to me about why this girl is so important," Kol said over the noise of the mixer.

Was there harm in talking to Kol about Caroline? Probably. In fact, most definitely. But his brother was there and he was getting the yips.

"I'm kidding by the way," Kol admitted. Klaus frowned at him from his seat. "I'm not going to stop making these just because you start blabbing," he finished, turning off the mixer and grabbing two eggs from the refrigerator.

Klaus backed down, telling himself he'd worry about the consequences of spilling his guts to Kol later. "Fine."

He got up and stood next to Kol in the kitchen, holding his hand out for one of the eggs and cracking it effortlessly, dropping the contents into the creamy mixture. He didn't need to be looking at Kol to know his brother was smiling like he'd just won the world.

"Okay, so, tell me," Kol whined, turning the mixer back on and blending the eggs.

"I don't even know if I can tell you why, Kol," Klaus admitted, raising his voice. He could feel the buzzing of the mixer rattling his bones as the fear sunk deeper in his belly. He'd not been this scared since they packed up and moved to America. How unhealthy was this?

"Come up with something then. Just to please me," he suggested, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a bottle of what looked like lime juice. Klaus was beginning to question what recipe his brother had decided to try out in his kitchen and how long he'd have until it failed miserably.

"Okay," he said, ignoring the nerves running through him. Caroline should not be having this effect on him. It was bad. _Twilight_ bad. "She's different because . . . she sort of screams 'look at me' but it's as if she doesn't even know that she's doing it. She told me during our conversation at the pub how little she felt in her already small town, and I sat there the whole time wondering how anyone so vibrant could be considered little. She spoke like she'd seen the world when she'd only ever traveled to New Orléans. I think she's different, Kol. Just . . . different. And I like—whoa, whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing?"

Klaus had been so immersed in his storytelling that he completely missed Kol pulling out a travel sized bottle of amber coloured tequila and tipping it into the bowl. He reached out and grabbed Kol's arm, but the contents had already dripped wholly into the mixture.

"Relax, Nik," Kol smiled, ripping his arm away from a stricken Klaus. "This recipe calls for a little kick."

"A little kick? You do realise you've just dumped an entire bottle of tequila into what looks like a cake mix?"

"It's tiny," Kol insisted, bringing up the bottle to inspect it. "The type you get on a plane."

"Where exactly is this recipe?"

Kol placed the tequila bottle on the counter and reached in his back pocket, handing Klaus a folded up piece of paper with a number on the back.

"That redhead you saw me talking to the other day was a baker and after we spent the night together, she gave me this cupcake recipe," Kol said with a charming grin.

Unfolded and without the glaring number burning a hole through the thin, flammable leaflet, the paper gave instructions on how to make margarita cupcakes. Klaus skimmed the sheet, his eyes landing on the amount of alcohol needed, and slapped Kol over the head with the recipe. Kol recoiled and grimaced, a question bouncing on his lips, but Klaus interrupted him before he could open his mouth.

"This calls for_ two tablespoons_ of tequila, you idiot. Not an entire fucking bottle," Klaus chastised.

Kol let out a sheepish giggle and lowered his gaze to the recipe. "Oh."

"Mm," Klaus agreed. "You're gonna eat all of these by yourself. I'm not in the mood for a hangover via cupcakes."

"I'll ask Henrick to join me."

"Do that and I'll break your fingers. He's barely eighteen."

"Touchy, touchy," Kol snipped. "And here I thought a good fuck would clear your mind, but it's just put you more on edge."

Sighing, Klaus slapped a hand across Kol's back and started to leave the kitchen.

"I'm going to my bedroom. You can finish up your alcoholic desserts, but you dare offer our underage brother anything and I swear you'll regret it."

With a roll of his eyes, Kol nodded grimly, clearly unhappy that he wasn't able to illegally offer alcohol to a minor.

"I wish we were in England," Klaus heard Kol say under his breath as he disappeared behind his bedroom door. Shutting it, he sat down on his neatly made bed and laid down on his back, breathing in the scent of his sheets to see if any of her still lingered on them.

He thought he could catch a whiff of something sweet, but it was probably his head playing tricks on him.

The colours of his room, dark and jungle-like, always reminded him of his inner self. There was a brightness to him, one brought out by vampire novels and the laughter that always accompanied a night out with his family, but deeper, behind the walls of skin and bone, lay a broken boy. Unloved and treated unkindly by the one person meant to protect him.

Maybe that's what made Caroline different. He'd been alive thirty years, and yet he'd never felt more safe than in the arms of a foreign—to him—blonde girl with a loneliness quite like the one he held. She enjoyed the smaller things in life, like vampires and small amounts of gin. She left cheesy notes with the words 'before the world catches up' written on them and kissed them like a true romantic. She was different. It scared him, but wasn't life all about confronting your fears? Wasn't that how you were meant to get over them?

His alarm clock creeped closer to seven and he decided it was time to stop playing chicken and grow a pair. She'd asked him to call her, and so he'd call her.

Was he losing his magic touch? Elijah always had him on the floor of the shop so he could charm customers into buying books. He was a natural flirt. The God-given talent brought the bookstore money and Klaus a good amount of dates.

But why was he so nervous now? Why were his hands shaking as they pulled his phone out of his pocket and started dialling the number that lead to a glorious woman in Mystic Falls, Virginia? Why was his stomach threatening to push up his dinner as he pressed down the button that sent the call through wires and states?

Why did he want to immediately pass out as a wispy voice that crackled like leaves under too much pressure whispered, "Hello, I was wondering when you were going to call,"?

Caroline.

"Uh," he choked, unsure where to go from there. He'd definitely lost his touch. "I thought you said to call at seven my time," he settled, bunching his eyebrows in embarrassment. He sounded like a loser.

She laughed in his ear and if he closed his eyes he could pretend she was next to him.

"To be honest, I was secretly hoping you'd call sooner."

His eyes flew open at her admission and he had to stop himself from gushing to her about how much he one hundred percent definitely without a doubt loved her.

"Well, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long."

Someone spoke, but it wasn't to him. The noise was muffled and distorted.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, aware now that there must be someone with Caroline.

"What? No, no. It's just my friend, Bonnie. She won't shut up."

More noises, sounds of annoyance and eventual, tired anger. He couldn't make out what her friend was saying, nor what Caroline was saying in return. He continued to lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing he could see her.

"Okay," she said suddenly. "She's not bothering me anymore. How are you?" She sounded confident, not at all like she had done the other day.

"Uh, good. Kol's in my kitchen, liquoring up some pastries. How about you?"

"No, no," she repeated. "Tell me how you really are. And then, when you're done, either send me one of those pastries or give me the recipe." Her sweet voice soothed him wonderfully and he found his icy blood warming.

"Well," he began, his cocky grin back in place. "I am good. Started work on a new painting today when I got back from work. It's at the outline stage, just a bit of pencil on a canvas. It'll be nice when I can get my hands on some decent paint again. Kol decided to steal my supplies not too long ago for some weird sex game." He cringed at the memory.

Caroline laughed breathlessly, a light, disgusted chuckle. "That's really gross. I'm sorry about that."

"Please, it's not a problem. The only pity is that they weren't toxic. I'll have to choose a better selection next time." He was sure she could hear the smile on his lips, but was too elated to care.

"What are you painting?"

Rising up, Klaus peered at the marking he'd made on the white canvas. Curves, soft and delicate. A face too beautiful for his own hand to even attempt to recreate. But he couldn't help himself. She was too much of a muse.

"Oh, nothing. Just a boring landscape. Some hills and valleys." Which wasn't totally untrue. There were definitely hills and definitely valleys. They just happened to be creamy white with a few dotted moles here and there.

"Sounds intriguing." Was she being sarcastic? Look at him, the British guy, not able to tell if a woman was using sarcasm as a humour technique.

"It will be beautiful when it's done," he assured her. _Provided I can figure out the proper colour of your areola, _he thought disdainfully. It'd been dark when she'd been naked and tangled up with him in his sheets. He'd not been able to study with his artistic eye the true detail of her body. "Will you tell me how you are now?"

"If you promise me you'll give me the recipe your brother is currently cooking, then yes," she challenged, teasing.

"I promise," he chuckled, sticking his fingers through his hair and ruffling the gelled curls, a nervous habit.

"Well, then I will tell you how I am." She sounded pleased as she spoke, and he wasn't sure if it was the prospect of alcohol-filled cupcakes or him. He hoped it was the latter. "I had a stressful day, getting everything organised for our launch next week." She paused and he heard some more muffled chattering. "Sorry, my mom just got home. But I can still talk. And before you say anything, no, I do not live with my mother. Hey, guess what we've decided on as a column for the paper?"

He laughed at her ability to jump from topic to topic without taking a breath. Kol cursed in the kitchen, but he ignored it, telling himself he'd only go out and check on his brother when he could smell smoke.

"I have got no idea, Caroline. What column have you decided on?" There was an intake of breath when he said her name and he liked that he had the power to make her breathless with just his words.

"Vampires. It's a late addition and we're having to work overtime to get it all sorted out, but I'm gonna be writing it. Just little snippets. Like, random facts and book/movie recommendations. The first, believe it or not, is going to be about _Dracula_."

His heart started creeping its way up his throat and he coughed, unable to control the reactions his body had to her—her voice, her words, _her. _

"Good choice," he managed to say before his heart gave out and he couldn't speak anymore.

"I know. Thanks for rekindling my love for that book. Even if I do have to keep it locked away in a safe where no one can find it thanks to your generous discounted rate," she joked, eliciting an unattractive giggle to escape his lips.

"Anytime, love. Anytime." There was a pause. Not awkward, but still silent. And he hated the silence, so he covered it up quick, "so yesterday, you got me to spill a secret talent of mine. I was wondering if maybe you could reciprocate. Tell me your passion outside of vampires."

Another pause, but this time he didn't mind it. There was thinking happening her end, her brain was clicking and ticking with thoughts and ideas, past and present things she enjoyed.

"Singing," she said, defiant with a hint of shyness.

"Singing, huh?" He asked slyly, raising an eyebrow even though she couldn't see. He imagined her rolling her eyes all the way over in Virginia. "Sing for me."

Caroline laughed and he smiled back at her, wishing they could see each other. "Not today, Phantom."

"What?"

"Sing for me? _Phantom of the Opera_?" She said, unsure all of a sudden. "Did you just make a _Phantom of the Opera_ reference without knowing it?"

"I guess so," Klaus mused, curling his fingers around his chin. Rebekah liked the show, he vaguely remembered walking in while she was watching the 25th Anniversary performance on telly, but Klaus was never one for the theatre. "Sorry."

"It's nothing to apologise for, but you should see it. They've got the 25th Anniversary on Netflix. You've got Netflix down in Louisiana right?" Caroline bumbled enthusiastically, her words moving so fast Klaus barely caught them . . . until the last question where she was definitely making fun of him for living in the south. Which was unfair, because if he remembered anything from geography class it was that Virginia was considered a southern state.

"We don't live in the middle ages, Caroline. Yes, we get Netflix."

"Good. You should watch it."

"Maybe I will. But none of this explains why you won't sing for me. Or to me," he corrected, unwilling to make any more obscure references to West End shows he knew nothing about.

"If you want to hear me sing," she whispered; he had to strain his ears to pick up the last bit of her sentence, "come to Elena and Stefan's wedding. I'm singing their first song."

Klaus blinked rapidly. That definitely sounded like an invitation.

* * *

**Three Days Later:**

"Wait," she interrupted, licking some of the lime cream cheese frosting off her finger as she swallowed a bite of her cupcake, "he has a cape?"

Klaus had made good on his promise and texted her the recipe for the cupcakes and she was quite pleased with the result.

The pair had spoken on the phone every day since he first called. Caroline was quite enjoying their little arrangement. She got butterflies in her stomach whenever she saw it was him on the caller I.D.

Bonnie would not stop making kissy faces at her, but it was worth it just to hear his sexy accent tell her all these wonderful things. Like how much of a closet geek Kol was.

"I don't think he appreciates it being called a cape. He likes to think of it as a cloak. A giant, black, tie at the throat cloak," Klaus corrected through his façade of calm. Caroline could hear him suppressing a gurgle of laughter.

Kol wasn't her brother though, so she felt no need to protect his feelings by holding in the insane amounts of giggling at the idea of such a tall, handsome, seductive man owning—and wearing—a cloak.

"That's kind of funny. I wouldn't picture him as the type to enjoy witchcraft and wizardry," Caroline mused as she finished her tequila cupcake with a satisfied moan.

"Well," Klaus said, obviously choosing to ignore her earlier embarrassing noise (though she heard him swallow rather thickly), "we all expected him to grow out of it at some point, but he still has all his _Harry Potter _memorabilia. And I may or may not have walked on him playing around with all of it a few times."

"No, seriously?" Caroline gasped, trying to picture Kol prancing around with a wand and time turner.

"Yes. And for the life of me I can't decide if that's worse than the times I've walked in on him having sex. Both images I can never seem to clear from my nightmares," the Brit disclosed with a shudder.

"You know, my friend Bonnie's really into all that stuff. She was obsessed with _Harry Potter_ when it was still being published. I swear, I had to wait in line for hours with her the night they came out. It was torture," Caroline said, remembering vividly standing in a freezing line with sleeping bags and random packets of junk food, just waiting for the doors to the bookshop to open.

"Did she cry when she didn't get her letter?" Klaus asked.

"Yes, a lot. On my brand new sweater too. I've never forgiven her for that."

"Kol would never admit to it, but I caught him crying on his eleventh birthday. Father was home, so he couldn't really showcase his emotions, but there were a few tears shed."

Caroline cringed at the mention of Klaus' father. She wished he were alive so she could kill him. Stories of broken bones and black eyes had been shared with her and she wished nothing more than to reach into the phone, gather Klaus up, and bring him all the way to Virginia just so she could hug all his terrible memories away.

"Kol and Bonnie would get along well then," Caroline said, thinking on it for a second. Kol could be the missing link between Bonnie and eternal happiness. But then again, he could be the one to send her straight to hell.

"Oh, I am positive. From all the lovely things you've shared about her, they seem like two peas in a pod."

"Is that sarcasm?" Caroline asked, ready to get defensive.

"Ha, no. I'm being quite serious, love. Their personalities may clash a little bit in the beginning, but they'd make fast friends."

Caroline raised her eyebrows, "Like you and me?"

"Well, maybe a little less fast."

"Oh, I don't know. You lasted pretty long," Caroline mumbled without really thinking through her words.

"For someone who asked me not to mention that we had sex, you've successfully brought it up three times in five days," Klaus teased mercilessly, rubbing in the fact that Caroline's brain suddenly stopped working.

"We all have lapses in judgement every now and again," she reminded him.

* * *

**Six Days Later:**

"Caroline, I know you're in there," Damon Salvatore rumbled, pounding on her apartment door.

"Go away, Damon! I'm busy," Caroline shouted back. It was her turn to call Klaus today. She wasn't in the mood for any visitors.

"Come on, I have a copy of your newspaper. First edition and all," he said from behind the door.

Con: Tell him to piss off.

Pro: Let him in. He's trying to be nice.

Con: Damon isn't nice. He's an ass.

Pro: But he's got the paper.

Con: So?

Pro: We're narcissists at heart.

Con: Fine, let him in.

Caroline stood up, shook her head in an attempt to clear her crazy thoughts, and unlocked the door to let Damon in. He was leaning casually against the doorframe with her newspaper in hand and his infamous, conceited smirk playing on his lips. Blue eyes danced in front of her and she was tempted to slam the door in his beautifully disgusting face.

"What?" She asked, sounding more hounded than she actually was. She had twenty minutes until she should call, but who wanted to be left alone with this Salvatore brother for more than five seconds?

"I've got something for you," he said with wide eyes, letting his eyebrows dance.

"Can I have it?" She asked mockingly sweet, holding out her hand and tilting her head to one side.

Damon smiled devilishly and leaned down so their noses almost touched. "Can I have a kiss first?"

Caroline screwed her face in distaste and pushed him away. "In your dreams, Damon."

He straightened his back and sidestepped his way into her apartment, throwing the newspaper on the kitchen counter and hopping up next to the coffee maker so his feet dangled like live wires, kicking and sparking. "Come on, Caroline. You used to be more than willing to give me kisses when you were in high school."

Putting her hands on her hips, Caroline glowered at the tall man. "You mean when you seduced me when I was a minor? How could I forget?"

"Please, you were all over _me_. And besides, I was a little boozy back then. All better now." He patted his head as if that somehow proved he was sober. Of course, Caroline knew he'd gotten clean quite some time ago, but she had her doubts about the grief-stricken man in love with his brother's fiancé.

"Will you just give me whatever it is you came here to give me?" She asked, exasperated.

Damon banged his head back against the cupboards. "Fine," he grumbled, slipping his hand into his leather jacket pocket. For a stupid moment, Caroline thought it was something dangerous, like a gun or a knife, but breathed easy when she saw it was a piece of cardboard paper.

After closing her door, Caroline strolled to Damon and plucked the object out of his hand, hopefully giving him a painful paper cut in the process.

"You're hand delivering Stefan and Elena's wedding invitations?" She asked when she finished studying the paper. "What did they torture you with to get you to do this?"

"Oh, believe me, blondie," he smiled, eyes flickering with white-hot flame. "I offered."

Caroline could've rolled her eyes, but she refrained. "You're worse than Bonnie."

"The witch-obsessed dame who's still pining after Elena's little brother? I'm worse than her?" He asked, placing a hand over his heart in offence.

"My best friend, thank you very much. You can leave now, Damon," she said, pointing to the door.

Staring deeply at Caroline, Damon hopped off the counter and sauntered to the door with graceful steps.

"Save me a dance, Caroline," he breathed as he whooshed out her apartment like a ghost.

Caroline stared at the shut door, unsure if Damon Salvatore had actually shown up at her home. But she was still gripping the invite, so her theory that she'd imagined the whole exchange fell flat.

Was she excited for the wedding? Sure; Stefan was finally getting married, and to the girl of his wildest dreams. Elena was hopefully done dragging around Damon and would leave him alone once she tied the knot, but evil habits die hard. The happy couple were giving her an opportunity to sing their first song.

She was excited. It was a wedding, after all. Happening between two of her favourite people in the world. And what girl in her twenties isn't excited, at least a little, for a wedding?

* * *

"I got the wedding invite today," she said, almost sounding sad. It was an odd opener, but they'd been doing this for two weeks and saying 'hello' was already proving itself to be an annoying greeting.

"You don't seem pleased," he mentioned, hoping he wasn't out of line for suggesting she wasn't anything more than thrilled.

"I am," she tried to insist, her voice flailing a bit at the end. "But it's in four months. That's really soon."

Klaus furrowed his brow and fiddled with his curls while staring at his painting. It was coming together nicely now. After stalking Caroline on Facebook, he'd managed to at least get the face right.

"Is it? Four months isn't that soon."

She groaned in his ear and his body reacted immediately, an uncomfortable ache biting inside his trousers. He didn't know what their relationship was. It was just that, he thought: a relationship, a friendship. But her voice, her rough, I-sound-like-I-smoke-too-much voice, did funny things to him. Things that shouldn't be possible over the phone.

"You don't get it. I need to find a dress, rehearse the song, get a date, get a gift, find shoes, find a jacket because the wedding is in fucking January, and figure out what I'm going to do with my hair, nails, and makeup," she lamented, making Klaus go dizzy.

"Don't forget to take a nice, long gulp of some vodka somewhere there," he said. "Aren't you one of the couple's closest friends? Why aren't you in the wedding party?" He refused to ask the question he really wanted to know the answer to—can I be your date to the wedding?

"They're being weird and not having a wedding party. It's just gonna be them and the officiate up there," she said, less than enthused.

"How odd."

"Yeah, how odd."

* * *

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" She asked, hopefully already knowing the answer.

He humoured her anyway, replying with a curt 'yes, Caroline.' Laughter hit his ears pleasantly and he resented that they had to say goodbye at all.

When they hung up, Klaus flipped open his laptop and went straight to the Mystic Falls website, his mouse hovering over the _Properties For Sale _link.

* * *

_"Just one more hit and then we're through."_

* * *

**A/N 2: ****What's Klaus doing, huh? **

**So, instead of giving you a snippet of my new fic, I thought I'd just tell you the titles. There's the prequel (which is turning into quite the long story) which is _Give Me Attention _and there's the actual fic titled _Give Me Another Chance. _Anyone read _Invisible Monsters_? Do you get the references?**

**But yes, what did you think? I enjoyed writing this chapter. And that's a real cupcake recipe. Just be sure to be of legal age before you start sifting through your cupboards for ingredients. **

**You know, I've been rereading all the _Vampire Diaries _books (little known fact, I read them _before _the show came out) and it's been confusing my poor shipper brain because in the books Klaus is a sadistic, six-thousand year-old "Old One" and Caroline's a green-eyed, auburn-haired bitch. Bad idea to be rereading them at the current time, but I couldn't help myself.**

**Okay, so I'll try to get the next one out sooner, but it's a complicated chapter, so don't expect too much from me. Thanks again for being so incredibly amazing. I'm much more than grateful for each one of you. You all put smiles on my face.**

**And I'm actually listening to "Nicotine" as I publish this. It just popped up on my iPod. It's fate, I swear.**

**Anyway, until next time,**

**-LoveIsATemple**


	6. You've Got it All Worked Out

**A/N: Has it been a long time? Has it really . . .? Okay, it has. And I'm one million different kinds of sorry. A lot of stuff has been happening. A lot. You guys can see the length of this chapter and probably figure out a few reasons why it is so goddamned late. **

**Please excuse any problems, i.e. grammatical mistakes, repeated information, and/or stupidity. And a huge thank you to everyone who's still sticking with this, reviewing, favouriting, and following. You make my world go 'round.**

**It's kind of a filler, which sucks because it's long. But I promise next chapter will be shorter, quicker, and full of M-rated material. My kind of M-rated material, at least.**

**Hope it was worth the wait and please don't be too put off by its monster length. I'd love it if you could leave a review when you're done! **

* * *

_"Insisted pretext, so what does that make God,_

_To the girl that you love . . . girl you loathe._

_Girl that you love, girl that you love, _

_Knows you don't."_

_Girl That You Love | Panic! at the Disco_

* * *

**Chapter 6: You've Got it All Worked Out**

**Two Months Later:**

The buzzer near Caroline's front door was, well . . . buzzing, shooting annoying vibrations through her heavy skull. If she clenched her eyes and cleared her thoughts, she could almost imagine it not being there, but the more she ignored, the more incessant the noise got.

Letting her sheet tumble to the floor, she groggily flung her feet over the edge of her sofa and stood up, taking an extra moment to stretch out her aching limbs.

After coming home from the office late last night, Elena had phoned her and said Caroline was to be at the Mystic Grill by 2:00 p.m. the next day to discuss the song choice for her and Stefan's wedding. They'd been on the phone for over an hour deliberating various songs from various genres until Elena got frustrated and threw a quick goodbye before ending the call rather abruptly.

Caroline had been too tired to travel twenty feet to her bedroom, so she curled up on her couch and went to sleep.

Sleeping on a sofa was not a good idea, especially for someone who not many would consider lived on the short side of life.

Caroline's bones protested much of her movements as she leaned down to retrieve her Blackberry. The buzzer was still ringing too loud, but she disregarded it in favour of checking the time.

Con: Great, it's gone past eleven. We've only got two hours to get ready.

Pro: Who needs more than two hours to get ready?

Con: Have you seen the freaky regimens she carries out? They're freaky.

Pro: And don't we look stunning because of it.

Sighing, Caroline put her phone down and went over to the panel by her door. She pressed the CALL button and waited a few seconds, trying to remember how to properly greet someone when you feel like demonic kids high on sugar whacked at your head like it was a piñata.

She was in desperate need of caffeine, stat.

"Who is it?" She asked, her voice crackling with sleep. She yawned into the speaker, waiting for the person to reply.

"It's me! Open the door!" Bonnie's chipper voice made Caroline recoil. She didn't recall inviting Bonnie over, but then Bonnie never needed an invitation. Showing up chaotically was more her style.

Caroline wanted to groan. She wanted to tell Bonnie to leave her the fuck alone so she could sleep for another twenty days. Parts of her wanted to yell that Bonnie needed to find a life, and then needed to find someone to share said life with.

But she was a kind best friend, and she knew it was the lack of caffeine in her system talking.

Holding her breath for a few seconds, letting the world go a little wobbly, Caroline tacked her bright smile on. "Okay, okay. Calm down."

Caroline pushed the button that opened the apartment complex doors and could hear Bonnie's rushing footsteps clambering up the small amount of stairs it took to get to Caroline's third floor apartment.

Not wanting to keep the green-eyed beauty waiting any longer than necessary, Caroline swung her door open in preparation.

Squeals sounded around the hallway as a small, bouncing figure came into view. It galloped to Caroline and pulled her into a hug.

Caroline blinked away some more sleep and reacted accordingly, wrapping her arms around Bonnie's shoulders and squeezing while trying to ignore the wild hair poking at her face.

Bonnie let go and stepped beside Caroline into the apartment. She turned back to look at the tired blonde, her face full of icky concern.

"You look like someone punched you. Are you doing okay?" She asked as Caroline rolled her eyes and closed the door, returning the bolt lock to its rightful place.

Growing up with a sheriff for a mother never truly left you. Early on in her life, Caroline had been taught an assortment of ways to stay safe, what to do if her safety was ever compromised, and how to handle an attacker when the time arose.

Sure, the late night lessons with nerf guns and makeshift weapons had slightly scarred her small mind, but now she knew how to knock a guy out cold. The techniques had been useful during her university years when the frat boys would get a bit too rowdy in their drunken hazes.

"I'm fine," Caroline assured her, watching with raised eyebrows as Bonnie started pouring water into her coffee maker. "What are you doing?"

She walked over to Bonnie and leaned against the kitchen counter by the sink, folding her arms over her chest and stifling another yawn.

"Making a bomb," she replied sarcastically. Caroline frowned. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Making me coffee."

Bonnie smiled and looked at Caroline through her mascara laden eyelashes. "I'm making _us_ coffee."

Caroline bowed her head and nodded. "Ah."

"Seriously," Bonnie piped, reaching above Caroline's head for the cupboard that held the coffee grounds. She could already smell the French roast. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" When was Caroline Forbes _not _okay? What was Bonnie getting at?

The shorter girl shrugged her shoulders, measuring out a couple scoops of grounds and grabbing a coffee filter from one of the drawers. She knew this place better than Caroline. "I don't know. You've been all cooped up either here or at work. I miss you."

Trying to hold back a scoff was difficult, but Caroline succeeded. Barely. "Miss me?" She asked rhetorically, throwing her hands out in front of her in a flail of enthusiasm. "I see you at least three times a week. We have dinner with my mom on Monday's, we're having drinks at the grill tonight because we do so every damn Friday, and we parade around town on Sunday's for our weekly six-mile run. And that's not including all the other times we see each other. Like now, for example."

"Okay, fine. It's not that I miss you. I'm just worried," she said quietly, almost like she was afraid of Caroline's reaction.

Bonnie pressed buttons on the overcomplicated contraption and soon enough Caroline heard the sweet sound of coffee brewing.

"Bonnie, why are you worried about me?"

This was turning serious. Bonnie's eyebrows pinched above her nose and she started wringing her hands—all signs that the conversation was about to go from playful and fun to dramatic and intrusive.

"It's Klaus," she groaned finally, her head rolling back.

"Klaus?" Caroline parroted, lowering her gaze to the coffee machine. It dripped a black, bitter liquid into a fancy glass pot. She wondered if Klaus saw any beauty in something so trivial. "What's Klaus got to do with anything?"

Inhaling sharply and grabbing Caroline's forearms with a force the blonde didn't realise such a small person could render, Bonnie captured her gaze with a pleading look. "He's got everything to do with you!" She shrieked, aggravating Caroline's already throbbing headache.

"Is that bad?" Caroline asked, less than convinced.

Was it bad? She didn't think it was bad. They'd been talking on the phone for two months now, pretty much daily. Alternating the schedule of who called who was their biggest problem. That, and time. Both of them had busy schedules, but they always made it work.

"No!" Bonnie said quickly with an intense shake of her head. "I'm just wondering how you guys are."

Caroline eyed Bonnie cautiously. Since when did Bonnie need much of an excuse to spit out her nonsense words?

"You, specifically you, are wondering? Or my mom is wondering?"

Bonnie gave no answer. But the barely there guilty twinge to Bonnie's eyes gave Caroline all the indication she needed to secure her conclusion.

A loud groan of disapproval gurgled from Caroline's throat. "Why's my mom—the fucking sherif—making you do her dirty work for her?"

"Hey, she's worried."

"Well, tell her she doesn't have to worry about me anymore. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself when it comes to men," she declared with a triumphant grin. "And most other things come to think of it. Because, you know, I'm an adult."

"That's what I told your mom, but you know her. She is the sherif after all. She's seen a lot in her time."

Bonnie and her mother had always been close. Probably closer than Caroline and her were. When Bonnie decided to stick around Mystic Falls for college, and when Caroline decided that was the last thing she wanted, the sherif and the _Harry Potter _lover bonded over their love for Caroline and their mutual distaste for men. Two peas in a very compact pod.

"I know," Caroline sighed. "But it doesn't get any less annoying. There hasn't been a major crime in Mystic Falls since before the Gilbert's ran off the bridge back while we were still in university. And they caught the hit-and-run driver the next day."

Con: Kind of hard to miss a huge dent in someone's bumper.

Pro: Be considerate.

Con: Logan Fell was the asshole of all assholes and now he's locked up for double man slaughter. I'm not in the mood for being considerate.

"Oh hey," Bonnie trilled in her _I'm-never-unhappy_ tone, "guess what property just got sold?"

Not one for mind games, Caroline clicked her tongue in distaste and whispered through narrow lips, "Tell me."

"You're no fun."

"I've heard that one before. Just tell me."

"Fine. The old Gilbert building. I saw some guys hacking off the _For Sale _sign on my way here."

Bonnie finished her sentence just as the coffee machine beeped, signalling the time for a caffeine high.

The old Gilbert building had been sold?

Caroline always thought no one would ever take the offer simply because of who owned it. Jeremy and Elena were descendants of one of the founding families after all, and they were the ones who currently held the building's life in their hands. Citizens of Mystic Falls typically didn't wish to disturb the place where Grayson Gilbert practiced his medicine, but obviously that was changing.

Con: Whoever's decided to take that place had better prepare themselves for a wrathful town.

Pro: I actually kind of agree with you.

Con: I think you're turning soft.

Pro: Nope, never mind. I must have had some sort of absent seizure.

"Really?"

Brown curls bounced by Caroline's face as Bonnie got two mugs from some cupboard Caroline was unaware held any mugs. Maybe she did spend too much time at the office.

"Yeah," Bonnie confirmed. She glanced at Caroline out of the corner of her eye, blindly pouring the heady liquid into the cups. "It's weird isn't it? I can't remember a single time from my childhood when Grams didn't take me there when I was sick. And we used to play with Elena there after school every now and then. Now who knows what it's going to turn into."

The throwback down memory lane hurt Caroline's chest.

That was before Elena was the starlet of their one horse town. Before Bonnie fell madly in love with Jeremy. Before she had decided life was more than Mystic Falls. Back when the world was simple and carefree and full of sick days spent at home watching Nickelodeon and classic Disney movies.

"Maybe it'll be a strip club. We're in need of one of those," Caroline mumbled absently. She only realised what she'd said when Bonnie slapped her arm and gave a reproachful look. "Sorry," she apologised. "You know my head goes to humour in times of great sadness."

Handing her a mug of steaming black coffee, Bonnie hopped up onto the kitchen counter. Caroline was hit with a mirror image from a couple of months ago, watching Damon swing his legs in the same spot as he glaringly handed her the invite to Elena and Stefan's wedding.

She blinked away the haunting picture when Bonnie spoke.

"Yeah, I know. Let's cheer us both up. Tell me about Klaus!"

"You're not going to run and tell my mother?" Caroline had her reasons to doubt Bonnie's faithfulness. She vividly recalled the time she lost her virginity back in high school and calling Bonnie, only to have her mother barge into her bedroom later that night demanding answers.

Bonnie shook her head and crossed her heart. "I swear. Now tell me! It's been two freaking months," she gasped, causing Caroline to nearly choke on her coffee. "Have you guys had phone sex yet?"

Caroline banged her mug on the countertop and walked in front of Bonnie with a nauseated scowl flickering on her features.

"Bonnie, that's disgusting. No, no we haven't. No," Caroline denied adamantly with rigorous jerks of her bed-head hair. "I can't bring up the small idea of having a strip club in town but you can ask me if I've had phone sex? Where on earth is the fairness in that?"

"It's not disgusting," Bonnie defended. "I've done it."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean the entire world has," Caroline protested, closing her eyes and placing her hands either side of her face, triumphantly squeezing her lips.

It _had_ been two months since Klaus first called her. And they were two months full of incredibly flirty, funny, extravagant phone calls from a sexy British guy living in Louisiana.

And sure, she'd thought about doing . . . it . . . maybe once or twice, but just the idea weirded her to the point that even if he was the one to suggest it, she'd hang up the phone out of pure embarrassment before he could finish his proposal.

"It's what boyfriends and girlfriends do when they're living apart," Bonnie said mockingly.

"He's not my boyfriend," she reiterated for the billionth time since first announcing Klaus had called her those glorious eight weeks ago.

"You guys sure act like a couple," Bonnie sang, looking around the apartment as she tapped her fingers on the countertop.

There was no relationship, Caroline was aware of that small detail. And it was true, neither of them had brought up where they stood with one another. How do you casually mention dating over the phone?

She had accidentally kinda-sorta invited him to the wedding, but he hadn't said anything to her about her choice of words so neither had she, deciding it was best to ignore, ignore, ignore and pretend she'd never kinda-sorta invited him to the wedding.

She danced on hot coals around him and they weren't even in the same state.

But oh, the way he made her feel. She was ready to go all Michael Jackson on him and follow him around with a string of talented street dancers who knew how to snap really well, and subsequently make out with him next to an exploding fire hydrant.

Every day she loved learning new things about him. About his personality, his job, his family, his life. All these memories, these secrets, shared; it was unlike anything she'd ever known.

Despite denying her feelings for Klaus to Bonnie relentlessly over the past couple months, there was a bit of her heart that broke off every time she thought about him. Every time she remembered how unfair their situation seemed.

She couldn't leave Mystic Falls; not now, not when she finally had _something_ that was her own. Her paper was selling really well. More than three quarters of the town was signed up for it. She often got pulled aside in the grocery store or on her early morning run by various people of various ages telling her how much they appreciated her dedication to their entertainment and pleasure.

And he couldn't leave New Orleans. He had too many obligations there. His family, his job, his life. Nothing worth running away from just for her, the small town girl he'd had a one-nighter with.

Con: Are you saying that if you didn't have the newspaper, you'd hop on the first flight to Louisiana to be with the guy you've known for _two months?_

Pro: It's kinda romantic.

Con: It's _two fucking months!_ I've got dresses I'm more prepared to fly away with.

Pro: I think that's illegal in most states.

Con: And I think running into the arms of a _stranger_ is against the law in most states.

Pro: You're such a lousy sport. You've got no heart.

Con: Aren't we the same person?

Pro: Pretty sure I've got control of her heart. You've got the brain.

Was she seriously daydreaming about taking this giant step with Klaus?

Klaus, the guy she'd only known for two months?

Caroline shook her head, unaware of the odd looks being thrown her way via Bonnie, as if to tell herself _no_, but deep within the depths of her heart, something bobbed a clear, loud _yes_.

She thought she'd rid her mind of its over-romantic ways during the gut-wrenching time that was high school. Evidently though, once an optimist, always an optimist.

"He's not my boyfriend," Caroline said again. "Look, I gotta get ready. You've been here far too long and Elena will have my ass if I don't get to the Grill by two." She glanced at the digital clock on her oven. _Shit, I'm running out of time._ "I've got to call Matt."

Bonnie looked confusedly at her, jerking back when Caroline tried to shove her off the counter. "Why do you have to call Matty?"

With a loud groan, Caroline took a step back and headed for her room, taking a moment to grab her phone from the coffee table by her sofa.

"Why won't you leave?"

She heard her friend cackle behind her and twisted her head, seeing Bonnie standing by the door with her keys in hand and wearing a hundred watt smile. "That's the million dollar question," she said, dangling the keys in front of her.

Con: Bonnie talk for 'I won't leave if you don't tell me.'

Pro: The brain has as much to do with keeping friends as the heart, you can't blame me for this one.

Con: Yeah, I can. She trusts you way more than she trusts me. Which, in my personal opinion, is stupid.

Caroline relented midway to her room. "I need to call him because he's giving me a ride. My car got a flat the minute I parked last night. He's going to fix it after his shift at the grill today."

Bonnie nodded as if she was giving Caroline permission to use the totally true excuse. "Poor Matty." Bonnie's voice rustled through the apartment like wind through leaves, all crackled and lonely. "He and Damon should start a group. They can support each other through this very difficult time."

"Yeah," Caroline agreed as Bonnie unlatched the lock on the door and twisted the knob. "They should."

Matt Donovan and Damon Salvatore. Also known as 'the men in Elena Gilbert's past life.'

Or, 'the two men who were still too enamoured with the soon-to-be married Elena Gilbert.'

The same two men who needed to get over the golden girl and come to terms with the idea of her officially being off the market.

Matt Donovan: The boy she thought she could love.

Damon Salvatore: The man she foolishly thought she did love.

* * *

The shower water burned her skin even as she wrapped a white towel around her naked body, feeling the heavy fabric suck the liquid off of her. Toothy comb in hand, she began tugging at the knots in her hair as she exited the bright blue en suite bathroom in search for something to wear.

Knowing she'd have to meet with Elena and Stefan to discuss the song she was going to sing at their wedding later today meant looking extra nice.

She could see Elena sitting across from her with one of the most attractive men alive strapped to her arm, wearing one of her designer dresses despite the chilly autumn air.

Settling for a pale pink blouse and a black, high-waisted a-line skirt, she grabbed a lacy white bra and matching panties just for kicks.

She'd already called Matt and he agreed to get her at 1:40. It was currently 1:00, so she was fine on time. Except, she was supposed to call Klaus right about now.

With a huffed breath, Caroline dropped her clothes on her bed and picked up her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she got to Klaus Mikaelson.

Her heart immediately started pumping blood quicker through her veins as she anticipated him picking up. Would he be witty today? Intelligent? Angry?

"Caroline." The word—her name, which sounded like sweet nectar dripping from a honeysuckle bud when he said it—came out as a statement of fact. There was no awkward pause, no question. Just her name falling from his lips.

She breathed in shakily, her limbs threatening to turn to jelly after just one word out his mouth, and giggled like a schoolgirl on the phone with her crush.

Why couldn't she be a mature adult around him? Why did her brain have to turn to mush?

Pro: See, you're fault. Not mine.

Con: Shut up.

"Hey, Klaus," she said finally, gripping her free hand tighter on her towel.

Con: Now would be the perfect time to bring up the phone sex. You're already naked.

Pro: She needs to get ready. Elena's probably already wondering where she is.

If she didn't get dressed now, she'd be late. If she was late, she'd be in trouble. And no one wanted to be in trouble with Elena. She was like the meanest teacher imaginable combined with her mother when she had both the sherif pants _and_ the parenting pants on.

"Klaus, hey. You're on speaker," she said lowly, setting the device down onto her chest-of-drawers.

"Why?"

She had the clear image of him sitting at his desk in the bookshop, feet crossed at the ankle as they sat on said desk, with a kinked eyebrow and a smirk. And it played over and over in her mind.

Stifling another crimson-cheek inducing giggle, Caroline replied, "Because I have yet to master the skill of dressing myself with only one free arm."

There was a stagnant pause and Caroline worried if maybe she'd lost connection, but his voice croaked up before she had the chance to check.

"Oh."

Caroline dropped her towel.

"Oh," she echoed with a sly smile, gathering her body lotion and squeezing a small amount onto her fingertips. She started rubbing the creamy stuff onto her skin, trying not to feel exposed.

God, she wished he were there with her, smothering her pale skin with her signature _Dark Kiss_ lotion. She'd give almost anything to feel his warm hands running up and down her arms, her back, her legs. Feel the callouses blistered on his fingers roughing her flesh, feel his tongue exploring the darkest parts of her body. If she concentrated she could practically see him between her legs, staring up at her with evil eyes.

"Caroline?"

She jerked awake from her absurd fantasy and cleared her throat.

"Uh, what?" She asked, slightly disoriented.

She shifted her position, instantaneously aware of a wetness between her legs. If bodies could spontaneously combust, hers would be ash.

"Did you just moan?" His voice was distorted as it came through the shitty speaker on her phone, but there was no mistaking the lighthearted chuckle hidden in his words.

"No!" She practically shouted, taking immediate offence. Even though, yes, she probably had moaned. Because she was champion of embarrassing herself. Especially in front of him.

Obviously the only thing to cure her very vivid fantasies would be to order Klaus' presence in Mystic Falls. She was in need of some mind-blowing sex again, and he was her only option. Well, the only option she desired.

"Did you get a dog then? Because I heard something."

"Will you hear my fist as it hits your jaw?" Caroline challenged.

Klaus gave up his attempts to deter her. "Okay, sorry."

"Good."

1.1.1

"Before I go," Klaus added as Caroline gradually finished putting on her makeup. They'd been on the phone for a good thirty minutes, talking about nothing and everything. "Can I ask you a question?"

She paused her movements and looked down where the phone lay on her vanity. Her finger, which was coated in lipgloss, hovered over the speaker button in case the question ended up being something she didn't want one of her more eavesdrop-y neighbours to hear.

"Ask away."

Caroline turned back to completing her makeup, gliding the pad of her index finger over her lips until they were a peachy pink.

"Mystic Falls, what's your favourite thing about it?" He asked offhandedly, though the question sounded rehearsed. "What's kept you there all these years?"

The question threw her. They'd discussed Mystic Falls a few times, but that was usually because they'd previously been talking about vampires. This was the first time the topic of her home town had been brought up out of the blue.

"What do you mean?"

Klaus cleared his throat loudly and she could hear him shifting where he sat in his office. He was uncomfortable. "Well, I thought it was pretty obvious," he joked. "What do you love most about Mystic Falls?"

"Is it bad that I have to really think about this?" Caroline asked with a heavy laugh, attempting to gather her thoughts. What did she like about Mystic Falls?

"No, of course not. I'd have to think if you asked about Louisiana. Although the reason would probably start and end with family."

That made sense, he and his family were close. Closer than any other family Caroline had ever encountered. But they had perfect reasons for their strong relationships with each other.

Perfect, disgusting reasons.

"Yeah, that's probably it for me. I mean, it's just my mom and me here, but I've got all my friends—all my life—here. We're one big family. Even the people I don't necessarily like."

Klaus chuckled through the device on Caroline's vanity and she wished he was there with her, sitting behind her on her bed as she told him these things.

"Why do you want to know?" She questioned, fluffing her hair and taking a step back to look at her outfit in full. Sophisticated, but playful. Perfect for a meeting.

The Brit paused on the other line. She could barely hear his hot breaths.

After seconds passed of staring at her phone, willing for him to talk, he said, "Oh, no reason. Just curious."

"Uh huh," she murmured skeptically.

"Look, Caroline, as much as I adore talking to you," he lulled sweetly and she cursed her cheeks when they glowed a light pink that had nothing to do with the blush she'd put on earlier, "I have to hang up now. My brother is staring at me very meanly at the moment."

Caroline smiled as though he could see her, hoping maybe he could sense her happiness. "Tell Elijah I said hi. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Klaus."

"He says hi back, I'm sure," he told her gleefully. "And yes, love. Tomorrow."

The way he said 'tomorrow' confused her and her eyebrows swiftly dropped into a frown.

Usually it was a sigh, a regretful murmur. But he said the word like it was a secret, with a radiant, sing-song voice.

Before she could bring it up, question his tone and demand answers, the phone went dead, and she was left alone with her reflection and the voices bickering in her head.

* * *

Mystic Grill wasn't very far from Caroline's place. Seven minutes in the car if all the traffic lights were nice enough to stay green. Twenty minutes if your feet could handle the walk.

Half the memories stored in Caroline's mind took place at the infamous Grill. Ranging from her first time getting illegally drunk, to her first kiss, to her first date. Many of the cameras from her high school years were full of pictures documenting her various escapades at the small restaurant.

It was a timeline of her crazy life. The stages she'd gone through (the brief emo period after she'd discovered Dashboard Confessional and decided that sadness suited her best, that horrid time she'd mistaken nail polish for lipstick her freshman year) laid out in digital form.

Occasionally she went through the images that she'd stored on her laptop whenever she was feeling down. They had a cathartic effect on her. They eased her mind, told her everything was eventually going to be okay, because once upon a time she was innocent and free.

Caroline spun her head to observe Matt's profile. His hands gripped the steering wheel of his pick-up truck, turning every now and again when the road curved. His thin lips, marred by a beautiful scar from an idiotic experiment with her razor blade when he was thirteen, were set in a straight line. The all-American boy radiated concentration.

"Matt," she stated, calling his attention away from the gravelly road for a brief moment, "do you remember halloween our softmore year?"

Matt shifted his eyes ever so quickly to hers, promptly shooting them back to the road. He readjusted his hold on the wheel and coughed awkwardly.

"Yeah," he dragged with a cringe. "Why?"

Holding a hand to her chest, Caroline blew a scared laugh in his direction at his reaction. That was the night they'd slept together for the first time. The beginning of their casual affair.

Matt was depressed about his breakup with Elena and she was depressed about being Caroline Forbes: second-best, so, with the aide of alcohol and mixed emotions, they'd stumbled into a bedroom at wherever the Halloween party was being held that year and ripped the clothes of each other's backs until they were naked and sweaty and shouting.

It happened a few more times after that, whenever Matt got into another mood. Elena always triggered them, and Caroline was always there to clean up the mess.

They'd been clean since graduation.

"Just wondering," she shrugged. "I remember it too."

Delivering her a sideways smirk, Matt raised his eyebrows, unconvinced.

"What?" Caroline asked in her most _I'm-not-impressed _voice.

"Why did you ask if I remember the first time we slept together?" He threw back with a jovial grin.

"Because I just wanted to know," she defended, raising her voice in slight offence at the proposition that maybe her question had ulterior motives.

Matt shook his head, turning the wheel and getting them one step closer to the Grill.

"No, no. There's something going on here," he mused, his always-straight-teeth on full display.

Caroline shuddered at his apparent telepathic powers.

Truthfully, she did have ulterior motives. But how he could sense them was beyond her menial capabilities.

"And what if there is?" She tested.

The boy lifted his left hand and ran it through his bright blonde hair.

"Just tell me, Care," he said politely. He was always so polite.

_Why not?_ She thought.

Matt was good at listening.

"Okay," she yielded, pushing her Kate Spade sunglasses to the top of her head and flinging the visor down to inspect herself in the smallish mirror. Caroline inhaled deeply, exciting her head with oxygen. "Back in high school, when we first slept together, was it because you wanted to get back at Elena or because you actually liked me?"

She discreetly flicked her gaze to Matt, attempting to gauge his reaction. She saw him swallow, his lips quivering.

"Uh, you want to talk about this now?" He checked, shooting a knowing glance at the time on the dashboard and frowning at it.

"It's a simple question," she noted. A simple question she needed the answer to.

He tapped a beat on the steering wheel and whistled a short tune, probably formulating a response. That wasn't good.

It meant he was trying not to hurt her.

But she _needed _to know.

"I think," he started slowly. Caroline braced herself for the answer, snapping the visor back. "I think I was confused. Very confused. Elena'd just broken up with me and I really convinced myself I loved her, even though we were only sixteen. And who can really say they've been in love at sixteen?" He questioned rhetorically. "I hadn't quite grown into my height just yet, so I was a lightweight, and a cup of beer later, I was buzzed enough to lose most of my morals."

He stopped talking as they approached a red light.

"And then you found me," Caroline continued for him, "and saw me crying because Elena'd just been a bitch to me about her breakup with you."

Matt bobbed his head. "You kind of jumped in my arms and kissed me. . ."

"—I know what comes next," she interrupted. "But I want to know why."

"Why do you want to know, Care?" He requested innocently.

Caroline sighed deeply and rubbed her hand along her jaw.

"I just want to know if I was first choice that night. Or if maybe you took me into that bedroom because I kissed you and you needed something to take your mind off Elena," she groaned, her deep embedded insecurities flashing like a glorious light show.

The truck rocked a little as Matt turned the vehicle into the Grill's parking lot. He found a spot, but didn't turn off the ignition, leaving both blondes to sulk in silence about their previous life.

Caroline clenched her fists, angry at herself for allowing her childish vulnerability to reappear. She'd intended for the conversation with Matt to go smoothly, just so she could decide if Klaus meant all those things he said to her.

The entire time Klaus spoke to her in that wonderful accent of his, her mind buzzed with questions.

Did he always do this? Was there another girl waiting for him to tell her the same stories? Give her the same compliments?

No matter how long they spoke on the phone, no matter how much she ached—physically ached—for his touch, his scent, his lips, she couldn't quite believe he was real. It was as if she'd invented him, because no one was that perfect. No one ever wanted _her_.

Matt, when he'd flopped on top of her at that party, said she was beautiful and lovely and deserved more than what Elena and all those guys gave her. They all saw her blonde hair and big breasts, but he saw her eyes.

"Care," he murmured angelically. "I was messed up after Elena, you know that. But you also should know that I cared about you. A lot. I still do. You're one of my best friends. And I know we probably shouldn't have slept together that first night, or at least should've kept it a one time thing, but we did it, and we kept on doing it—"

"—Even though you were still in love with Elena," she finished.

"I don't know," he confessed. "I don't think I've ever _loved _Elena. Not like Stefan loves her. Like Elena loves Stefan. I'd always just been in love with the _idea_ of her."

"And that's not good, is it?" She asked, defeated.

Matt tugged the keys and the engine went dead. The heating shut off, allowing Caroline to hear the people chattering outside the Grill.

Bitterly, she bet with herself that they weren't struggling with their feelings regarding their not-boyfriend who lived in Louisiana.

Matt studied her for a second and tapped her bare knee, jolting her from her sorrowful thoughts. "This doesn't have anything to do with that British guy you slept with over the summer, does it?"

"What?" Caroline shrieked. "Who the fuck told you about that?"

"Bonnie . . ."

Caroline clutched her face in her hands and let her sunglasses clatter to the floor of the truck. "I can't trust her with anything, can I?"

"So, is that a yes?" Matt poked with hints of another skull-splitting smile.

She appreciated momentarily the speed at which she and him could go from uncomfortable silence to merciless teasing.

"Maybe," she sighed into her palms.

"Well, look," Matt said, patting Caroline's back. "If Bonnie's word is anything to go by, then you've got nothing to worry about. He sounds like a sweet guy. And if he can suffer through talking on the phone nearly every day for two whole months without seeing you, then something's going right. Not many guys can stomach something so intimate that isn't sex."

Caroline looked up from her hands wearing an amused smirk at his suggestion that Bonnie was a trustworthy source of information.

"He lives in Louisiana," she reminded him. "And he's obsessed with vampires."

Matt laughed easily, a smooth noise that was an old comfort for Caroline. "He sounds perfect for you then. Out of reach and vampire-crazy. A soulmate if I ever knew one."

Caroline gave Matt a dirty look. "How do I deal with the out of reach part?"

"Oh, God," Matt moaned, slamming his head back into the headrest. "Ask Stefan when you get inside. I'm no good at relationship advice."

Caroline giggled. "How do _you _deal with the out of reach part?"

Matt slid his eyes to meet hers. "You mean, how do I deal with Elena getting married?"

"Well, maybe?" She said guiltily.

"This whole town thinks I'm still hung up on her, don't they?" Matt asked with a sour smile.

"Aren't you?" Caroline asked without thinking. "I mean," she corrected, "you haven't dated anyone since me. And that can't really be considered dating."

"Hey, it's dating by today's standard. This whole Y Generation knows nothing about relationships," he argued impishly.

Leaning over and collecting her sunglasses, Caroline prepared herself for leaving the truck, not sure if Matt was joking.

"I haven't found anyone yet, Caroline. That's all. I'm not hoping for anything with Elena. That ship sailed years ago," he insisted, which shocked Caroline out of her preparations.

She opened her mouth several times before speaking, her mind running wild.

"What do you mean?" She squeaked, sure she must have heard him wrong.

Elena was Matt's eternal love, right?

"I mean," he began, the veins in his arms rippling, "that I got over Elena years ago. Damon's the one who needs help."

She laughed, unable to help herself.

Confused, Matt furrowed his brows. "What's funny?"

Caroline covered her mouth to try to stop her spitting laughter, but it did no good. Her chest heaved with giggles and her eyes started watering.

She definitely needed this.

"It's nothing," she spluttered through her fingers. "This morning Bonnie and I were talking about you and Damon needing to start something like AA to get over Elena, that's all," she proceeded when her tummy knotted and her sniggering stopped.

"Huh. Great minds think alike," he concluded with his own light chuckle. "You can cross me off that list, though."

"Will do," she agreed. "But I need to get inside now if I ever plan on keeping my beautiful face. And you need to get your ass inside if you ever plan on keeping your job."

She unbuckled herself and reached for the door handle, but Matt's hand on her shoulder stopped her movements. She shifted her head around, spotting him wearing a comforting smile.

"You're beautiful, Caroline," he promised. "And special. And if this guy likes you, which I'm pretty sure he does, he'll do whatever it takes to keep you."

"Keep talking like that Matt," she countered, "and I just might think you're in love with me."

"Get inside, you goofball," he snickered, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Caroline smiled to herself.

Maybe Matt was right. Maybe Klaus was genuinely a good guy. A good guy who liked vampires and girls named Caroline Forbes.

Yeah, she could live with that.

1.1.1

Sliding back into the booth after having returned from her bathroom break, Caroline smiled tiredly at the two people on the opposite bench.

"So, you think this one?" Caroline asked again, pointing at the sheet of paper Elena had brought with her.

Elena observed the placement of the blonde's index finger and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes," she confirmed happily, snuggling closer to Stefan and taking a sip of her white wine.

Stefan and Elena had sat her down three and a half hours ago, promising the meeting wouldn't take too long. She knew that was bullshit though, and wasn't surprised when happy hour started and finished with them still sitting in the booth.

Elena had gone through just about every love song known to man, ranging from obscure artists no one would ever know to all the greats. Caroline half expected Elena to throw a fit, but the brunette's throbbing forehead-vein never made an appearance and they settled the song choice like the adults they had been for a number of years.

Secretly, Caroline was aflame with excitement. After months of talk, she finally had a song to sing. Singing to her wasn't just some hobby. In another life, she swore, her name would be in lights. The world would know her, love her.

Outside of her degree as a journalist, Caroline's mind never strayed too far from her vocal roots. A song always itched the back of her throat, the same way a story continuously itched her writing hand. Singing ran through her veins, and singing live was something she'd always desired.

Deciding now was the perfect time to escape for some alcohol, Caroline shifted a bit to the right, grabbing onto the table's edge and stepping out of the booth.

Elena and Stefan looked at her with their foreheads scrunched in mild confusion. All the world's cutest couples did everything together, even something as insignificant as raising their eyebrows at the same goddamned time.

They were linked telepathically, Caroline had no doubts.

"Drink, I'm grabbing a drink," she assured them, pointing behind her with her thumb.

Elena smiled softly and inched even closer to Stefan. Fusing two human bodies was not yet possible, right?

"Perfect," the brunette smiled as Stefan sifted his fingers through her long, eternally-straight strands. "We need to talk about a few more things, remember," she warned Caroline, still wearing that same smile which told Caroline she didn't really need to fear.

Caroline moved for the bar, snagging the attention of Matt, who immediately turned around and started grabbing at bottles. "Uh, yeah. I'll be right back."

She spun so her back was to Stefan and Elena, and hopped to the bar stools, sitting down next to a slightly intoxicated Bonnie.

Friday nights were drinking nights for the gang, but since their engagement Stefan and Elena had been abandoning them more and more. Matt worked most Friday's, but that just meant free drinks. So, it was regularly lonely Bonnie and Caroline left to suckle at the alcohol till their heads got fuzzy and their feet got wobbly.

"What's the final choice, then?" He asked, already mixing her drink even though she had yet to order anything.

She smelled the tangy alcohol, her mouth watering in preparation for the sharp taste.

Caroline smiled wistfully at the blonde bartender, debating how best to describe the song selection. "Well, after much deliberation, we've chosen 'You Picked Me' by some one-woman band. Pretty good song, actually."

Discreetly, Caroline snagged a glance at the booth Stefan and Elena currently occupied.

The couple looked happy. They always looked so happy. Always so wrapped in each other's arms. Their kisses didn't make you want to gag, they made you want to shout to the Heaven's and thank God for true love.

"'You Picked Me,' huh? What's it about?" Matt asked sincerely.

Bonnie snorted. "What does it sound like, Matt?"

"I'm not all that into music, guys. You know that," he defended lamely, turning his eyes away from her.

Caroline thought she could see his cheeks reddening, but maybe it was a trick of the light. Matt didn't get embarrassed.

"It's about a girl saying how much she loves her man because he chose her above all the rest. Sappy and sweet," Caroline informed smoothly. It was a good choice for a first song, she thought.

Matt slipped a smile in place, lowering the towel on his shoulder to a spillage spread along the countertop.

"Sappy and sweet," he mimicked, slapping a gin margarita rimmed with salt and a wedge of lime in front of her hand. She grabbed at it quick and took a steady sip.

Casting his eyes above Caroline's head as the door blew open, Matt shook his head. "Did Damon deliver your invitation to the wedding?" He asked out of the blue, his voice rumbling and low.

Bonnie mumbled a 'yes' as she sucked on the straw buried deep in her Long Island iced tea. "And he did not look too happy about it either."

"He told me he volunteered," Caroline remembered, shivering at the memory of Damon Salvatore sitting on her kitchen counter.

Matt crossed his arms over his chest, flicking his eyes every now and again to something behind Caroline.

"Is he here?" Bonnie asked, noticing Matt's distracted gaze.

He fluttered a bit, casting his attention back to the pair of ladies. "No, don't worry. I was just wondering. He tried to get me on board with some batshit crazy scheme."

The girls' eyes went wide.

"What was it?" Bonnie asked at the same time as Caroline asked, "What did you say?"

Matt laughed briefly. "I didn't let him finish before I grabbed the invite and shoved him out the door."

Since their conversation in his truck a few hours earlier, Caroline found herself looking at Matt Donovan in a new light. He seemed more confident all of a sudden. Like the world wasn't weighing him down as much as she previously believed.

Thinking back, it humoured her how much she pitied the man. Always pining for something he couldn't ever have.

But they were wrong, all of them. Even Elena. She occasionally brought Matt into conversation, wondering idly if he had mentioned her. Once an attention seeker, always an attention seeker.

Matt wasn't looking for Elena though, no. Not anymore.

"Hey, I gotta get back to the booth before Elena blows her lid," Caroline mentioned, dropping her feet to the floor and gathering her things. Bonnie pouted, Matt smiled. "Don't miss me too much."

She turned on her heel and stepped down the brief staircase that took her to the Grill's landing and poked her head up to spy on the booth.

She expected to see Elena and Stefan chatting to one another like always. Maybe she expected to see them making out; they weren't above doing that in public. Or maybe she even expected to see them gone. What she did not expect was another person sitting in her spot, talking to Elena and Stefan.

From behind, she didn't really recognise him. There was some familiarity, she suspected as she crept closer. It was a man, his curls loosely gelled back. He appeared to be wearing casual clothing, a white t-shirt and if she was correct, a pair of dark jeans.

Maybe it was someone from out of town here for the wedding. But who would show up two months in advance? The Salvatore's had relatives from Italy, but as far as Caroline knew none of them were coming because Stefan wasn't terribly close with his European family members; and Elena's family was pretty much all dead, so it couldn't be someone from her side.

Caroline skirted around a waitress and approached the table, her curiosity spiking to new levels. A scent hit her nostrils the minute she came up behind the mysterious stranger, something akin to books and mint and a slight hint of bourbon.

_No. _She thought, stopping just short of the booth. That smell, she knew it. She fucking dreamed about it. But it couldn't be. **_No._**

Elena's laugh hit Caroline full force and she stumbled back, trying to get away from the table. From even the slightest _possibility _that her mind was not playing tricks on her.

"Oh, Caroline," Elena pipped smoothly, her voice traveling down Caroline's spine like ice. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

Elena met Caroline's eyes and beckoned her with a flip of her wrist.

The man's head rotated around in slow motion, but his profile was all Caroline needed for her stomach to knot itself into a structure boy scout's would have no hope of ever untying.

She saw the smirk first, his lips pulled to the right in smugness. Then she saw the stubble in all its perfection. And then there was a magical glimmer of blue, like a flash of lightning on a darkened night.

God, he was looking at her.

_Christ._

Waves of shock tingled in her brain, washing over her eyes and sending little trills of _freaking the fuck out_ to her extremities.

Caroline Forbes was two seconds away from passing out.

But she was a lady. Good, gentle; not one to pass out just because her one-night stand and definitely-not-boyfriend, who she'd spent two months casually flirting with on the phone, randomly appeared in her hometown's only good bar and grill.

_Shit._

* * *

"_Followed her, followed her, followed her home."_

* * *

**A/N 2: So . . . what did you think? Good? Bad? So horrible I should give up and never update again? **

**Who could it be? Ooh, I don't know. Spooky. **

**I am seeing Wakey!Wakey! this weekend as a farewell to VA before I leave for England again, and then of course I'll be in England dealing with school, so I'm not sure when I'll get a chance to write, but I will. I promise. And for those of you who are reading FATS (my other Klaroline story), I've got the next update almost done and it should be out this Friday. **

**Please review if you feel like it, don't worry if you don't, and I look forward to seeing you all soon. Again, next chapter is M-rated. **

**Also, I literally (today) just got a Twitter. I'm Junebug Harrison at **givemetolerance** (go Chuck Palahniuk). I don't expect any followers, but I will be updating on the progress of my stories there, so if you wanna know about that stuff or hear my random thoughts, go ahead and find me. **


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